Mercedes Day.

So, off we went, back to Santiago hospital for my X-Ray results, and subsequent follow up with the surgeon.

As we were driving The Moca, that hairy-scary road that takes us there, Papi said something idiotic like a typical male, and I, being a typical female, gave him the silent treatment.

You know how it goes.

But there were things I wanted to ask, like, "Why is there so much traffic today?"

And, "How come there are so many children out today?"

It was Tuesday.  You would expect that from a Sunday, but not Tuesday.

I just thought that perhaps there was an important funeral.

People show up in droves for funerals here, and if you're in a hurry, you better calm your hormones, because you are NOT getting past the procession.

Then we got into town, still silent with the bad energy hanging about in the car, and I noticed a few stores closed.

But it's Tuesday!!

The hard working people of the Dominican Republic only shut down on Sunday.

Then another closed store.

And another.

Then a whole strip.

And I finally broke the silence, "Why are all the stores closed?" in such a way that was cold and not very inviting to conversation.

Papi grunted back, "I dunno."

It wasn't until we got to the major store and saw it was closed that we realized there was yet ANOTHER holiday here.

The holidays here rival those of the Jewish holidays!

I don't mind so much, but damn!

We drove for an hour and a half, through the scariest road in the world, with a ridiculous silence between us and pain in my ankle, only to find the hospital shut down.

Of course, nobody would tell us NOT to return Tuesday.

Why would they?

No, no need to inform the foolish gringos that they shouldn't return to the hospital on Tuesday, because it's Our Lady of Mercedes Day.  Everyone knows that!

So, we went to one of Papi's fave restaurants, Pizza Hut, so Papi could have his American pizza, and I could have probably the worst salad I've ever experienced.

Upon sitting, there was an apology from Papi, communication from me, and the mood lifted.

But there was still the drive home to get through.

It was a bit treacherous, as people drink their faces off on Sundays and holidays.

They get drunk ON the holiday or Sunday.

Someone has to tell them of the Canadian way.  You drink the night before, so that you can sleep in, and sleep off the hangover ON the holiday.

Those poor souls get up after a night of drinking and go back to their hard work.

Anyway, we took home a route, that to me, was safer than The Moca, but the amount people that seemed to be playing chicken with us, or driving us off the road was terrifying.

Furthermore, there are no street lights on highways here.

I'm pretty sure this country is going to age me, if it hasn't already.

There is a new 'rule'.

Kinda like when you are going to pick someone up at the airport, you check the flight is on time BEFORE you drive?

Same goes for holidays.

We now check the holiday alerts before we make a move, because those damn holidays spring up all over the place here.

Oh, how you in Canada would like to have this many days off with pay!

We're going to go back to the hospital tomorrow.

I've checked three lists.

There are no holidays.

i learn something new every day

The Vacation - Part 5, The Big Ending

It was time to drive home, after spending 3 days in the capitol, and finally feeling like I'd forgiven Papi for drinking, albeit, not trusting that it wouldn't happen again.

You can never trust an active alcoholic to tell you the truth.  That trust is built with time.

Upon leaving the hotel, we were told of a new route.

It was a new road that was straight, safe and not many people traveled, so not many chances of an accident.

It was barren alright.  It had us worried about the possibility of breaking down, as there wasn't a store, a person, nor any help anywhere.

We had a little anxiety about cars breaking down since we traded in the jalopy, even though this newer car worked well.  We were still gun shy.

At the first of 3 toll booths, we found the ONLY gas station on the highway.  We filled our tank full, and at that same time, I also filled up on the best tasting ribs I'd ever experienced.

When I'm nervous, I gorge.

Oh, I ate those scrumptious delicacies and even shared a little with Sir Bark-A-Lot, forcing us to suffer the wrath of his bowels assaulting us with his stench 30 minutes later.

After a few hours, we got to the end of the stretch of highway with not a soul in sight, but then had the daunting task of finding our way home.

We were hours away.

We didn't take the turn off we needed, because true to any developing country, most people driving know the roads and know which donkey to turn left at, hence there are no signs.

We were now driving for another hour, realizing we were probably lost.

Stopping at a gas station to fill up again, we had hopes that the guy could tell us how to get home.  It seemed like we had someone who knew what he was talking about.

He told us to go back the way we came and take the Las Terrenas exit.

We found it, then realized all roads led us to nowhere, in circles, winding back up where we started from, further from our house.

We decided that the guy obviously didn't know what he was talking about and headed back toward him to pass him by and carry on for a while.  It was now 2 in the morning as we passed familiar landmarks we had already seen, but we needed to find someone to help us.

Papi was way too tired, and needed me to drive.  No problem.  There doesn't seem to be anyone who will stop me to check if I have a license.

We wound up in a city called Samaná.  It was a mind fuck.  Every street was a circle and we couldn't get out.

We kept winding up in the same place we started, just like in Las Terrenas, even though we tried every avenue we could find.  The only one left was the one we came in on, and that wasn't an option.  We weren't driving 5 hours back to the capitol.

There were some people drinking at the side of the road, and I did my best, 'I'm tough don't fuck with me, but I need your help' attitude.

They were indeed good people and we followed them as they drove their motorcycle out of the city to help us leave.  Again, we were heading back to the capitol, but with a switch.

We had to turn off at a city called Nagua.  Oh, I drove.  For another hour.

By the time we reached this city, Papi had been snoring for at least 30 minutes, and the car started to overheat.  As it just reached red, I put the car into neutral, hazard lights on and coasted for a while.

It seemed to do the trick.  The arm lowered.  But I was scared shitless that we were going to be stuck, and had I started to get bleary eyed and tired, so I woke Papi.

"Can you drive?  I'm starting to fall asleep at the wheel."

It was 4 a.m. when he looked at his watch, slurring tired words, "Pull over, we're sleeping at the side of the road."

We've been told NEVER to do this, but what was our option?  To fall asleep at the wheel and kill ourselves?  At this point, we'd been driving for about 9 hours and didn't care if someone robbed and beat us.  We just needed to sleep.

We found a nice little graveyard and across the street was a gate that looked like it belonged to people with money.

They would understand two gringos passed out in their driveway, I'm sure.

6:30 a.m. came, I woke up with neck and back pain from hell, then looked behind our car, noticing that the gate was open, and the owners allowed us to keep sleeping.  We definitely chose the right house.

We actually made it home an hour later to the Dominican Daddy and the Housemaid both petrified as to what had happened to us, both wide awake waiting for us to return and release them from their job of protecting Casa Paraíso.

Return we did.

From now on, we take The Moca, even if it is the most terrifyingly treacherous road in the country.

We need a vacation from our mini-vacation, but true to our adventure here, that is not going to happen.

i follow my dreams no matter what

money, money, money

Ah, the gringo tax.

So nice.

When people here don't put price tags on things, it is simply so they can look at the colour of your skin and charge accordingly.

Seriously people.

Have you seen the truck we drive?

We are not the 'rich' gringos.

All we want is an affordable car that will return us back home.

We're searching for a car lot that isn't near the tourists now, as they may have price tags on them.

It's the same with anything here, really.

If they give you a really high price, you say, "We're not tourists, we live here," and even if it's in a really bad Spanish accent, most of the time, they'll give you a better price.

Yesterday, we were looking for dressers and end tables for our bed that will be here in 3 more weeks.  They went crazy trying to charge us $1,000 for them.

We just said, "We're going to Ikea."

They actually have one here in the capitol, Santo Domingo, and we'll be there next week to work on our residency.  They'll deliver it as far as Santiago, where we can hire someone to pick it up.

I'm not driving The Moca again until we have a new vehicle.

We got the carpenter started on our bed frame.

We're getting the bed built tall enough that puppies can't get up and pee all over the place.

That is of course, with the exception of The Donkey.  She can pretty much go anywhere she pleases.

Like the roof.

Have I told you about the new roof we need?  Now we need it even more.

The balcony roof has been used for a litter box.  It's that grass roof style.  Perfect for piddling on, no?

The Mrs. figured out that she could just walk on out there and do her business, and not have to dirty her paws in the stink pit that would be shared by her two smelly cohorts, The Bastard Prince and Psycho Kitty.

And now, this means that the puppies are following suit.  And by puppies, I also mean The Donkey can fit through the barrier as well.

As much as she's very tall, she's quite thin, true to her breed.

We keep feeding her more thinking she's starving, but we'll have to get a handle on how much is enough, or we'll go broke feeding this girl.

Imagine a massive donkey/goat/dog on your roof, along with 2 naughty side kicks.

Thinking of it, I can see vet bills rising from broken limbs.

So, not only do we need a new roof, but we need a better barrier so those buggers don't get out there anymore.

I am now considering concrete and tiles, like the house, instead of grass.  As much as the grass looks cute, it has to be replaced more often.

Not to mention, The Mrs. will just pee on the new grass too.

She also has found another nice place to pee.

Our main bathroom shower.

We don't use the upstairs shower while we're living downstairs in the guest area, until we get our bed.

So, I guess The Mrs. decided it was for her.

I have 3 weeks to un-stink that shower.

I've already scrubbed twice.

If you're ever feeling bored, come to our house.

You will be grateful for your boredom and I will explain to you what it is to have 'down time'.

I would love some.

And a little more money for a new roof, rocks so we don't wash away, and a car that will get us from A to B.

i visualize myself having abundant wealth.  that is who i am.

we made it alive

Yesterday was probably the most terrifying experience we've had here.

We drove to Santiago to get some necessities we've needed for the almost 2 months we've been here.

When we got into town, our heap of crap car broke down.

No problem!  My angels were looking out for us and we had a guy come repair the problem with an old tire inner tube.

He was amazingly crafty and so sweet.

The alcoholic swiggin' out of his rum flask was not so sweet.  I had to keep walking away, because he kept getting way too close.  I had cars honking at me because I was walking on to the road, but it was the only way to escape the guy sometimes.

I thought he was friends of the sweet mechanic.  So, I asked him and he said, "No, he's just crazy."

That was good enough for Papi and I to practise our stern voices.  He went away eventually.

That wasn't the scary part though.  That was merely entertainment.

It was the drive home that almost had me puking with fear and my hands falling asleep from gripping on to the car so hard.  White knuckling it all the way.

We're not supposed to drive at dark because it's VERY dangerous.  But we wound up in the city much too long.

Off we went to The Moca, and it got darker and darker and darker.  Our headlights barely lit the road, which of course has no lighting.

This road is treacherous to say the least.  It's the kind of road that could be in the Guinness Book of World Records, because it's so windy and dangerous, and there we were driving in the dark.

Not to mention, our windshield wipers don't work, so our windshield has about an inch of sand and dirt on it, making lights from approaching vehicles blind us.

No point pretending we could see.  We could go over the cliff if we moved an inch too far.  We just stopped the car every time headlights came toward us.

Then there was the noise that was coming from our car that was threatening to break down again.

Tickity-tickity-tickity in super high speed, like a woodpecker had taken up residence in our engine.

We had filled the radiator before we left the city, which was one of the reasons it took so long to get the hell out of the darkness, but the hill over the Moca is so steep, that our poor car had to work double time.

I actually prayed and kept repeating to myself what I always tell everyone else, "Everything always works out.  One way or another, it works out."

I spoke to my angels, "Please, just let us get out of The Moca."

If we were stuck at the side of the road, the first thing that would happen would be our items we just spent $2,000 on to FINALLY get set up in our house would be stolen.

Next?  We'd be physically harmed, and I could possibly be raped.

It was Friday night.

Inhibitions were down because everyone was drinking, staggering along the road and ready to party.  It was not a place for 2 ignorant Canadians to be broken down and left to the wolves.

When our car finally limped out of The Moca, we sighed relief.  If we were stuck between the Moca and our village, at least we could call our electrician/plumber and ask for him to send us someone he knows with a taxi.

We'd pay anything for that help, but someway, somehow, we made it home.

When we stopped the car and were safe, we looked at each other without words, "Holy shit, we're alive and home."

The dogs were kept company by the Dominican Daddy, who should have just gone home after his gardening shift, but instead, stuck around because, "No!  Perros y bandidos!"

Even though Mr. Majestic is horribly scary to him, he wanted to make sure the dogs were ok.

We gave him an extra week's pay just because he's so lovely and cares for us so much as to take care of our property and dogs.

Long story short of it, we need a new car.

First of all, this damn thing is 6 cylinders.  We can't afford that kind of gas!!!

Second?  It's a heap of shit that is so unreliable, we never know if we're going to make it to point B, never mind back to point A.

But we made it alive and safe, even if that trip aged us both an extra 10 years.

And today, in that heap of crap, we get to pick up my baby sister and crew from the airport for their visit!!!!

Shhh ... don't tell them about the adventure they're in for.

there is a good reason i am paired with this perfect family