You really have to laugh.
My baby sister saw a pic Papi posted of us while we were in the 2nd tow truck after our car broke down and asked, "Why are you smiling?!?!"
Because you have to laugh.
We have a car we bought from the devil himself. We had it 'repaired' the day before we left for our trip to the nerve center of this country.
I've been having some troubles being stranded at the side of the road in our small town in the country, but there's one problem area you do not want to experience being broken down in, and true to our nature of never ending drama, this is where the car was grounded.
Now, I've spoken before about how we're living in a pretty vicious country, but just to recap for those of you who are new to my world, people in this country are so desperate to get their cerveza for the day, they will kill you for 5 pesos.
I am not exaggerating.
We set out to the capitol, Santo Domingo, to get my salt air impaired piano fixed by the best in the country.
But not only that, we had 2 computers, also slain from living too close to the ocean, along with our computer we've been sharing and an iPad for the other soul who doesn't get to the shared computer first.
Oh, and cash in case we got stranded.
Off we drove with our tinted windows, to be sure people couldn't see we were gringos right away in hopes that we don't get accosted, and drove on a highway where there is nothing for miles, except for the occasional horse.
It's an ideal stretch for serial killers to dump bodies in, but we don't have that problem in this country. Generally speaking, that seems to be more of a phenomenon of white men in 1st world countries.
However, it is a great place to be dumped after desperate pirates take everything you own, then kill you so you can't identify them.
Satan's Sedan croaked and we were stranded in bum-fuck-nowhere, Dominican Republic, near 2 horses who seemed to salute us with an anxious, "Neigh!!!!"
We were fortunate that this toll road had an emergency number. We called it and the woman who spoke speed Spanish did her best to get information out of me about where we were.
"Ummm ... near 2 horses and coconut trees." It couldn't have been arduous to find the farcical gringos with a raised hood.
When they arrived, they found me searching the grass. Why? Because when I had taken the radiator cap off, the lid blew off like a volcano.
Not to mention, I had green coolant dripping from my face, hair and clothing. The saving grace was that I had waited long enough that the coolant did it's job and I didn't get a 3rd degree burn from boiling fluid.
Papi had a good laugh at my face of disgust. Yeah. Really funny.
Anyway, thanks to our emergency crew we didn't get killed by fortune hunters.
The emergency crew called a tow truck for us, but he could only bring us to the first toll booth. We needed a 2nd one once we passed that border.
Upon meeting the first driver, I had asked Papi to please sit in the middle, so that I didn't have to sit beside what my spidey senses told me was a creepy man.
"No! You speak Spanish!" Papi said. Oh yes. This guy whispered things to me in Spanish that Papi couldn't understand.
Really, I couldn't understand the words, but I understood the energy quite clearly.
We got to the 2nd leg of the highway of hell without being raped and the new tow truck driver, who was a sweet family man, got us to a repair shop with our car and all it's belongings in tow.
This is where we met the garage owner who had two thumbs ...
... i'm not kidding ... it was QUITE fascinating ...
... who told us that our engine was dead.
Dead engine. Stuck 3 hours away from home, no clue to know whether he was lying or not with one option: we had to accept that we were going to have to pay for a new engine if we were to make it home again with the demon's dump of a jalopy.
An engine takes a little time to be put into a car, so we had a forced vacation, but there's so much more to tell you.
Why I'm writing a blog instead of practising my piano that we went all the way there to get fixed? Because I can't find my fucking piano power cord.
Jeeeeeezus have I left all my cords in Santo Domingo?!?!?!
We can't do anything without drama, which is entertainment for everyone.
Don't ever feel bad if you have a boring life.
I'm thanking my angels that we got through the trip and made it back home alive.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to a puking puppy.
And people wonder why I started drinking again ...
My baby sister saw a pic Papi posted of us while we were in the 2nd tow truck after our car broke down and asked, "Why are you smiling?!?!"
Because you have to laugh.
We have a car we bought from the devil himself. We had it 'repaired' the day before we left for our trip to the nerve center of this country.
I've been having some troubles being stranded at the side of the road in our small town in the country, but there's one problem area you do not want to experience being broken down in, and true to our nature of never ending drama, this is where the car was grounded.
Now, I've spoken before about how we're living in a pretty vicious country, but just to recap for those of you who are new to my world, people in this country are so desperate to get their cerveza for the day, they will kill you for 5 pesos.
I am not exaggerating.
We set out to the capitol, Santo Domingo, to get my salt air impaired piano fixed by the best in the country.
But not only that, we had 2 computers, also slain from living too close to the ocean, along with our computer we've been sharing and an iPad for the other soul who doesn't get to the shared computer first.
Oh, and cash in case we got stranded.
Off we drove with our tinted windows, to be sure people couldn't see we were gringos right away in hopes that we don't get accosted, and drove on a highway where there is nothing for miles, except for the occasional horse.
It's an ideal stretch for serial killers to dump bodies in, but we don't have that problem in this country. Generally speaking, that seems to be more of a phenomenon of white men in 1st world countries.
However, it is a great place to be dumped after desperate pirates take everything you own, then kill you so you can't identify them.
Satan's Sedan croaked and we were stranded in bum-fuck-nowhere, Dominican Republic, near 2 horses who seemed to salute us with an anxious, "Neigh!!!!"
We were fortunate that this toll road had an emergency number. We called it and the woman who spoke speed Spanish did her best to get information out of me about where we were.
"Ummm ... near 2 horses and coconut trees." It couldn't have been arduous to find the farcical gringos with a raised hood.
When they arrived, they found me searching the grass. Why? Because when I had taken the radiator cap off, the lid blew off like a volcano.
Not to mention, I had green coolant dripping from my face, hair and clothing. The saving grace was that I had waited long enough that the coolant did it's job and I didn't get a 3rd degree burn from boiling fluid.
Papi had a good laugh at my face of disgust. Yeah. Really funny.
Anyway, thanks to our emergency crew we didn't get killed by fortune hunters.
The emergency crew called a tow truck for us, but he could only bring us to the first toll booth. We needed a 2nd one once we passed that border.
Upon meeting the first driver, I had asked Papi to please sit in the middle, so that I didn't have to sit beside what my spidey senses told me was a creepy man.
"No! You speak Spanish!" Papi said. Oh yes. This guy whispered things to me in Spanish that Papi couldn't understand.
Really, I couldn't understand the words, but I understood the energy quite clearly.
We got to the 2nd leg of the highway of hell without being raped and the new tow truck driver, who was a sweet family man, got us to a repair shop with our car and all it's belongings in tow.
This is where we met the garage owner who had two thumbs ...
... i'm not kidding ... it was QUITE fascinating ...
... who told us that our engine was dead.
Dead engine. Stuck 3 hours away from home, no clue to know whether he was lying or not with one option: we had to accept that we were going to have to pay for a new engine if we were to make it home again with the demon's dump of a jalopy.
An engine takes a little time to be put into a car, so we had a forced vacation, but there's so much more to tell you.
Why I'm writing a blog instead of practising my piano that we went all the way there to get fixed? Because I can't find my fucking piano power cord.
Jeeeeeezus have I left all my cords in Santo Domingo?!?!?!
We can't do anything without drama, which is entertainment for everyone.
Don't ever feel bad if you have a boring life.
I'm thanking my angels that we got through the trip and made it back home alive.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to a puking puppy.
And people wonder why I started drinking again ...
i allow my life to be filled with peace
