Semana Santa

I made an amazing comeback (for me) from the gripe - and just in time for el fin de Semana Santa! Other than the nagging cough and some congestion, I'm feeling much better. Semana Santa is celebrated the week before Easter. Here in the Dominican Republic, there were festivities all week long, with most businesses shutting down after Wednesday. Friday night, after having been stuck inside the entire week, I decided to meet up with friends for some Bachata on the beach. As I walked from the apartments to the dance bars at about 9 pm, there were lots of people out and about celebrating. I was sad however when I got to our local dance spot and was informed that music was prohibited until midnight. What? But Friday night is Salsa night at 'Voy Voy' and dancing at all the establishments usually starts at 10 pm! Not tonight, I was told, being the Friday night before Easter, the music and festivities would not begin to play until midnight, and would then go until 9 AM. I decided to head to the country with friends for the weekend and then went home to bed. I woke up at 7 am to a down pour of rain which I assume sent the last of the party-goers to bed, packed a few things, and then headed back to the beach to find breakfast. Indeed the aftermath looked like something from a movie. There was party paraphernalia everywhere, with still a few all-nighters holding beer bottles in hand, but mostly just those out doing damage-control, raking up piles and piles of bottles, cups, trash, shoes, etc. in preparation for Saturday's 24-hour festivities to begin. I met my group at 10 am, and was pleasantly surprised to see a cute little white Jeep Wrangler awaiting as transportation just accross the street. As I walked toward the Jeep however, I heard the loudest, base-iest, latin music ever coming from the car. When I went to throw my bag in the back of the jeep, I was engulfed in the sound blasting from a huge array of speakers. The speaker system was so large in fact, that it took up the entire vehicle except for the two front seats. I learned that there would be four of us riding in the two front seats with the music playing as loud as it could go (words can't possibly describe how loud it truly was) the entire trip, with the back open for everyone else to enjoy the entire 1.5-hour journey to Nagua. I promptly pulled out my earplugs and inserted them with a smile - I never leave home without them (thank goodness!). Unfortunately, the earplugs had hardly any effect on the decibels coming from the enourmous sound system at our backs, and my body was rattling with the base the entire ride. My travel companions seemed to love the attention and the volume, while I was trying to hide my face and indescretely cover my ears. Upon arriving to the country, we were fed pork (remember, I began to eat sausage last week). Something about no red meat during holy week I think. I found the pork more difficult to eat once I saw a woman preparing the head of the animal in a bucket of bloody water, knowing that we'd eventually be served portions of this very head sometime over the next 24-hours of our visit. I reminded myself though, that my purpose for the trip to Nagua was to escape the tourism of Cabarete and experience Semana Santa as the locals do. It would be important for me to keep this in mind the entire weekend. Having no idea what was on the agenda, only knowing that I would be well protected by my friends, I was forced to lose my controlling nature and go with the flow the entire weekend. After lunch, we went to the beach were the fiesta was going on. There were at least a thousand people playing in the river, swimming in the ocean, hanging out on the beach, and at booths packed all along the beach, drinking, listening to music, and dancing. Amazingly, in the three or four hours we spent at the beach, I never saw another tourist - quite a change from my experiences to date in the DR and a welcomed change indeed. After the beach, we went back to the host house and ate the traditional 'night-before-easter-dinner' soup. I can't remember it's name, but I think it is an acquired taste. The all night party at the neighborhood supermarket, which then moved to the host's house, began around 9 pm. I retired at 11 pm, and was happy that I did, because I didn't get much sleep once people consistently made their way inside trying to find a space to crash out until morning - the last drunk person entered the house at 5:00 AM talking as loud as he could, cursing the lack of space to sleep, and then snored along with a couple of others, as loud as I've ever heard a trio of snorers snore in my life. Unfortunately, I left my earplugs in the jeep which never did make it's way back to the house so no sleep for me. For breakfast we had traditional Easter drink/cold soup made from beans, raisons, and other stuff that I'd never heard of. It was all blended together and some people drank from a cup or glass, while others ate it from a small sauce pan with a spoon. There were lots of little kids running around the whole time enjoying the festivities as well. It was an enjoyable Easter weekend in the country, and I felt fortunate that I got to experience it the Dominican way rather that the tourist way. Life is beautiful.