I guess that was all we needed to forget about all the grief we've been receiving.
A field trip.
We were taken by the Pool Man, his wife and son to Santiago. They were talking about how wonderful this 'Price Smart' was.
In Vancouver, we have 'PriceSmart'.
When spoken, sounds identical because you don't hear the space between words. I never thought the one in Vancouver was anything special, but it's a hell of a lot better than the dimly lit little stores here where I try to find something, anything to eat.
Off we went over the Moca, which is so treacherous that it puts our Sea to Sky highway to shame.
We rolled past hills of green grass that looked like something out of The Hobbit, gorgeous, space seeking trees and too many cows to count.
When we got into the heart of the city, we saw a massive store being built. It seemed like perhaps we would find something I could eat.
Then we turned into the 'Price Smart'.
The moment we walked in, it was like we saw that g*d really existed.
It was their version of Costco.
I'm not a material person, but I am definitely someone who looks for comfort when shopping.
This was it. We found it.
A store we could relate to that had so much of what we need that it was like we'd seen snow for the first time.
A microwave! Big batches of salted cashews! Honey! Mixing bowls of stainless steel! Knives that will actually cut our food! Papi was thrilled because he was able to get his treat like he always would at Costco; a big cup of fountain pop.
Then we were escorted through town to be shown a few more grocery stores with so much to choose from, we were content in thinking that we'd never miss Vancouver now.
The one store that got my attention was one that actually carried my favourite wheat free pasta, Tinkyada, and a $10 loaf of Glutino, wheat free bread.
Papi was as bit dismayed that I'd be buying a $10 loaf of bread, but I assured him it would be my once a month treat. Kinda like his once a month junk food binge in the big city at McDonald's or any other fast 'food' joint.
After returning from our shop and it was time to go home, back over the Moca, I saw something I wasn't looking forward to seeing.
I'd already seen a dead dog, a dead cat and a dead horse at the side of the road. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would see what I didn't want to see; a motorcycle accident.
Someone in the middle of the road who didn't look like he'd be moving any time soon, flat out like a pancake.
He had obviously been one of the hooligans who drive too fast and reckless, not to mention, there wasn't a helmet to be found.
Of course I went into full panic attack, but we were with people we didn't know very well, so I had to do my best to suffer in silence with tears being concealed, doing my best not to hyperventilate.
We were told before we went out on our venture that if there is an accident, you don't stop.
If you stop and help bring someone to a hospital, because you are a foreigner, they will blame the accident on you when you bring the person in, and you will get sued for hospital costs and more.
In this instance, I was extremely grateful that we didn't stop, because it was too much for my P.T.S.D. to deal with, but the sadness was so overwhelming for my morality.
I would stop in Vancouver, no matter how bad my flashbacks were, if I saw this guy and only one person helping.
I've learned that there's no point in trying to prove anyone wrong that has been here for 20 or so years.
We have to start believing people.
It was pretty clear our new friends were scared enough of the repercussions, when both the Dominican wife and son said, "Don't stop! Go! Go!" in such a panicked voice that it sounded like there was a gun pointed in their direction.
They assured us that many Dominicans will come to the aid of the only person helping this man.
They assured us that a Dominican taxi will drive him to the hospital if he's still alive, because the ambulances here will not take you without money up front.
This is a life like nothing I would ever expect in Canada.
I knew I'd be in for some new ways of living, but this truly is a day by day shock to my emotional system.
Good thing my Friend of the Angels sent help to us last night.
I can feel them with me now.
A field trip.
We were taken by the Pool Man, his wife and son to Santiago. They were talking about how wonderful this 'Price Smart' was.
In Vancouver, we have 'PriceSmart'.
When spoken, sounds identical because you don't hear the space between words. I never thought the one in Vancouver was anything special, but it's a hell of a lot better than the dimly lit little stores here where I try to find something, anything to eat.
Off we went over the Moca, which is so treacherous that it puts our Sea to Sky highway to shame.
We rolled past hills of green grass that looked like something out of The Hobbit, gorgeous, space seeking trees and too many cows to count.
When we got into the heart of the city, we saw a massive store being built. It seemed like perhaps we would find something I could eat.
Then we turned into the 'Price Smart'.
The moment we walked in, it was like we saw that g*d really existed.
It was their version of Costco.
I'm not a material person, but I am definitely someone who looks for comfort when shopping.
This was it. We found it.
A store we could relate to that had so much of what we need that it was like we'd seen snow for the first time.
A microwave! Big batches of salted cashews! Honey! Mixing bowls of stainless steel! Knives that will actually cut our food! Papi was thrilled because he was able to get his treat like he always would at Costco; a big cup of fountain pop.
Then we were escorted through town to be shown a few more grocery stores with so much to choose from, we were content in thinking that we'd never miss Vancouver now.
The one store that got my attention was one that actually carried my favourite wheat free pasta, Tinkyada, and a $10 loaf of Glutino, wheat free bread.
Papi was as bit dismayed that I'd be buying a $10 loaf of bread, but I assured him it would be my once a month treat. Kinda like his once a month junk food binge in the big city at McDonald's or any other fast 'food' joint.
After returning from our shop and it was time to go home, back over the Moca, I saw something I wasn't looking forward to seeing.
I'd already seen a dead dog, a dead cat and a dead horse at the side of the road. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would see what I didn't want to see; a motorcycle accident.
Someone in the middle of the road who didn't look like he'd be moving any time soon, flat out like a pancake.
He had obviously been one of the hooligans who drive too fast and reckless, not to mention, there wasn't a helmet to be found.
Of course I went into full panic attack, but we were with people we didn't know very well, so I had to do my best to suffer in silence with tears being concealed, doing my best not to hyperventilate.
We were told before we went out on our venture that if there is an accident, you don't stop.
If you stop and help bring someone to a hospital, because you are a foreigner, they will blame the accident on you when you bring the person in, and you will get sued for hospital costs and more.
In this instance, I was extremely grateful that we didn't stop, because it was too much for my P.T.S.D. to deal with, but the sadness was so overwhelming for my morality.
I would stop in Vancouver, no matter how bad my flashbacks were, if I saw this guy and only one person helping.
I've learned that there's no point in trying to prove anyone wrong that has been here for 20 or so years.
We have to start believing people.
It was pretty clear our new friends were scared enough of the repercussions, when both the Dominican wife and son said, "Don't stop! Go! Go!" in such a panicked voice that it sounded like there was a gun pointed in their direction.
They assured us that many Dominicans will come to the aid of the only person helping this man.
They assured us that a Dominican taxi will drive him to the hospital if he's still alive, because the ambulances here will not take you without money up front.
This is a life like nothing I would ever expect in Canada.
I knew I'd be in for some new ways of living, but this truly is a day by day shock to my emotional system.
Good thing my Friend of the Angels sent help to us last night.
I can feel them with me now.
i focus on breathing and grounding myself
It doesn't seem very much like paradise there .andrea, 'I hope it gets better.xxx
ReplyDeletewe hope so too. it's just hard right now. a friend who has already done this kind of move suggested that we stick it out for 3 months, that we just need to adjust.
Deleteculture shock.
It actually is paradise just with some unexpected bumps in the road :-) It will calm down in no time and we will get used to the different Culture and way of living. I wouldn't change living here for anything in the world ! We really do love it here.
ReplyDeletePapi
the bumps are nasty. they're giving me whiplash.
Deletebut the paradise part is THE BEST THING EVER!!!
ReplyDeletepapi, is that you? it sounds like you :)
Delete