Empty Beautiful Waves Everywhere!

Last week I set out for an adventure with my new board. I called a taxi to squeeze me and my board inside his tiny little sedan, and drop me off at a beach called Punta Barco - a.k.a. Playa Tetas. There was no one else in the water and only one other car at the deserted beach when the driver dropped me off, looking concerned he told me "be careful" as we exchanged the large sum of money to tote me down bad dirt roads to this deserted land and said our goodbyes. I walked the beach thoroughly, having been told that the rocks are jagged and dangerous, and not knowing where to catch the break without breaking any bones. Luckily, another fellow surfer (Jorge) with his girl (Monica) showed up and he signaled the universal 'surf on' to me as he passed me heading out to the waves. Yay, I grabbed my board and followed his same pathway to the wave. Jorge turned out to be a great surf partner, telling me which waves to go for, and letting me have most of them. Unfortunately, my little arms can only paddle for so long and we both went in after chatting it up on the waves for some time. On the beach they asked me if I was alone, and when I replied "yes", they both looked concerned. They asked how I got here, and I told them a taxi. They then asked if I'd like to join them at another difficult-to-get-to surf spot called Playa Esmiralda and I said 'sure'! We crammed three boards and three bodies into Monica's very new compact car, and all surfed Esmiralda together. They offered to drop me at the highway so that I could avoid the outrageous taxi fee and catch a bus back to El Palmar. I amazingly caught one that had a seat and a boy willing to hold my board jammed into his body the entire ride. From there, I walked home, feeling satisfied from good, solitary surf the entire day, tired arms, and incredible luck in meeting new Panamanian friends who were willing to show me around their beautiful, deserted surf spots.

El Valle de Anton Visit no. 2

Yesterday I was in desperate need to escape the intense heat of the playa, and so decided to head back up to El Valle, with my sights set on finding the golden frog. I headed straight for my favorite breakfast spot on the main street where they serve incredibly small portions of food, but very yummy so that you order more and more. This tricky scheme works on me and many others too apparently. The carrot-orange juice is amazing, and the man who tends the tables is refreshingly happy and friendly all the time. I also like this place because I meet lots of interesting people there. Yesterday, however, an eccentric man, I’d guess in his 50’s, approached me in an odd sort of way. I had my Spanish dictionary and a map of El Valle I’d been studying on the table, and he said, "Oh, you don’t speak Spanish either". I looked at him in a strange way and he then said "Well isn’t that why you have your dictionary there?" I sat in amazement still, wondering how to reply to this very clueless and so far a little annoying man whose look reminded me of Kramer from Seinfeld. Then I said, “I have this dictionary that I refer to constantly when I don’t know a word so that I can learn Spanish, Silly, since I definitely don’t know every word in this compact little dictionary." He then went on to tell me how he’d be dead in the water without a woman that he pointed to next door. He explained that without her, he would not be able to do anything here in Panama. I asked, “Why don’t you learn Spanish then?” He quickly replied “I’ve only lived here for five months, I can’t have a conversation in Spanish, can you?” I answered “I always try to have conversations with anyone and everyone – it's the best way to learn” He then replied, “Well I’ve only been here for five months and she does all of my translating for me.” I don’t get it. You deliberately move to a Spanish speaking country, and don’t bother to learn the language with every intention of staying here. The woman, by the way, was a delightful 30-something year old with two kids (she proudly stated), from Argentina. What better way to learn than from a bilingual person at your side every day to teach? Enough of him, I had a wonderful conversation with her about places we both loved in both Argentina and Panama for as long as the crazy Kramer-like man allowed, and he then said that they were off to do mud facials at the hot springs, and invited me along. My little ears perked up, but I knew that I could not take another five minutes with the guy, and so as they ran off to do their facials, I ran off to an internet café, and to buy fresh fruits and veggies from the farmer’s market. After an hour or so, I myself headed up to the hot springs, ran into them as they were leaving (perfect timing), paid my $1.00 entrance fee and coated my face with mud. Not having a bathing suit, I was not permitted to enter the natural mineral pools, but was allowed to soak my feet and legs in a different pool while the mud dried on my face. Again, for the sole purpose of entertaining, I may decide to post my self-taken photo with mud packed and dried tightly to my face, but right now I'm not that brave. What fun! The mud facial was awesome and the grounds were relaxing, although I still haven't seen that inconspicuous golden frog.

Life in El Palmar, Panama

I'm not sure what made me do it - perhaps the waves, the pueblo, or the cozy feel of the place, but I decided to rent a little guest house which is about a two minute walk to the beach from my front door, and made the enormous jump of purchasing my very own surfboard yesterday. I love waking up, walking out to the Mango tree to find the best fallen fruit, and then slicing them up for my breakfast. I love slowly swinging in my hammock in the garden with my new book, 'The Life of Pi', and waking up to the sound of wind chimes and lots of active birdies chirping and singing their happy morning songs. The surf board was an adventure for sure. A friend from town accompanied me into Panama City to help me look for a good used board (being the town board repair expert). We started out at the Albook Mall, where the Albrook bus terminal is located and the bus dropped us. There were three surf shops that we successfully found in the Mall after much searching, but with no suitable board for me. We then took a taxi to another shop, about a 30-minute drive in traffic, to another board shop that was supposed to have used boards. They had used boards, but none that our town expert felt were worthy of the money asked, and that would suit my needs. During our search, Tomaso had been placing calls to his friend Bruno, who runs the panama surf web site and has tons of surf contacts. He received a call from Bruno saying that he was not able to find any used 'fun boards' after making several calls around, but found a good priced new board at a shop we then promptly took another taxi to. Bruno met us there, and indeed there was a brand new beautiful seven-foot board with red flowers calling my name, and not just softly, it was screaming my name. After walking to the bank for a major cash withdrawal, and purchasing a lottery ticket for a guy from the town who insists that the lucky lotto tickets are found only in the City, we returned to the board shop to walk out with my new board. The next obstacle was transporting the 7-foot brand new board back to El Palmar (1 1/2 hours by bus, with a 15 - 20 minute walk down to the town from the bus stop) without scratching it. Tomaso, without my knowledge, had already started to call around in search of rides from friends who also 'happened' to be in the City. The stars were aligned correctly I suppose, because sure enough, some of his friends happened to be heading back in the right direction, and were happy to tote the both of us, along with my new board back to their house (also having a board rack and straps to safely carry it). Once we got to the house in Gorgona (a different surf beach about 15 miles from El Palmar), there happened to be two guys there from the house/hostel I stayed in when I first arrived, who were willing to take us back to El Palmar with them. Yippee! We both agreed that we had 'mucha suerte', much luck, in our mission accomplished, as we rode down the street leading to our beach, crammed into the back of a tiny little 4x4 with five people and a brand new red flowery surf board I couldn't wait to play on!

El Valle de Anton, Panama

El Valle, a refreshing and cool mountain town where people are about as friendly as I've ever experienced in my travels, and artisans are plentiful. On Sunday I took a little jaunt up the mountain to the town of El Valle, to escape the heat of the lowlands and to explore more beauties that the country has to offer in the higher elevations. There are waterfalls, hot springs, canopy tours, rock paintings, square-trunked trees, and golden frogs. Sounds a bit like a fairy tale doesn't it? Having left my swim suit at home, and hearing that the golden frogs were difficult to spot and the square trees are not all THAT, I started walking in the direction of the rock paintings (la Piedra Pintada). As usual, I became a little disoriented and unsure of my direction, however a nice man driving by asked where I was headed and then told his son, Manuel to guide me to the rock paintings. Manuel is nine (if I remember correctly) and very cute! Although he was on his bike, he walked along side of me and told me the story of the Sleeping Indian (La India Dormida) whose profile made of peaks and legends one can see from almost anywhere in town. The story goes like this:

There was once a beautiful native princess who vell very much in love with one of the Spanish Conquisadors, when the Spanish arrived in the valle. They shared a very brief but intense romance, and the princess then asked permission from her father to marry the Spaniard. Her father absolutely refused, as she was meant to marry someone of royal blood, and not one who was trying to claim her people's land.

Upon being forbidden to marry her one true love, the princess took her own life. She was buried in the hills, earth and dust gradually covered here body, giving shape to the mountain that rises over the valley. Legend insists that the princess in only sleeping and awaiting the day when her forbidden love can be pursued. The story now serves as a parable by the locals for never denying the love that two people share.

After Manuel guided me through the writing on the rock in Spanish (I caught about 35% of it), I hiked up the mountain looking for a cave but didn't find it. Instead I found a beautiful mountain brooke and a steep trail that wore me out!

I recommend at least a night and two days in El Valle in order to partake of all that the area has to offer.

Hard Sun, Crystal Blue Water, and the San Blas Islands

I am back to the luxuries of Wi-Fi, real coffee, and bathrooms that are plumbed into a sewer system after returning yesterday from the San Blas Islands, which are still completely undeveloped and controlled by the Kuna Indians - at least for now (I'm totally cheering for the Kunas!). On Sunday afternoon I decided to book a flight to El Porvenir from Panama City leaving at 6 am Monday morning. I was staying in a hostel that night, and luckily everyone and their dog had an early flight scheduled to somewhere, so getting up wasn't a problem. Upon arriving on the island of El Porvenir, I did not have a place to stay even though I was forewarned by the Lonely Planet guidebook to make sure that all accomodations and flights on the islands were booked in advance since there are no phones on most of the islands, no electricity, and certainly no internet for any type of communication between islands or to the mainland. There are some 400 islands that compose the San Blas Archipielago, but being the 'fly by the seat of my pantalones' type of gal that I am, I had no place to stay upon arrival, nor did I have a flight back to the main land - I prefer to leave my options open you know. I find that the Universe always has a way of working things out anyway, so I figure why not just go with the flow? On the short 35 minute flight to the island, I quickly searched my lonely planet guide and found a recommended 'hotel'. Luckily Luchin, the 'hotel's' boatman happened to be at the airport and transported me via cayuco, a dugout canoe made from enourmous hollowed out tree trunks, to my new found paradise and 'hotel'.

There were eight of us staying at the 'Hotel San Blas' for the week, located on the island of Nalunega, population 500. In company were a German Family, Nina, Dirk, and their 5-year old son Roco, and 2-year old daughter Nola (they too, will be traveling north through Central America from Panama); a British couple, Adam and Kate (traveling south through South America, began in Guatemala), another German named Dietmar (on holiday for a month in Panama and Costa Rica), and myself (wandering about the tropics aimlessly). I found it refreshing and exhilarating to hang out with a house full of travelers, having no exact agenda - only places on the map to visit - like myself. It's always nice to hang with other travelers and exchange info. on places to add to the list of travels, places to stay, and things to avoid.

From our island, we were motored to at least one new island each day to swim, snorkel, and browse the islands different molas which are made of brightly colored shapes of layered fabric material sewn together. Molas originated from transfering the designs used for body painting to cloth, when the Panamanian government tried modernizing this traditional Kuna culture, and prohibiting them from wearing traditional dress. This was back when the Panamanian government took over for a spell.

Photo credit: galenfrysinger.com. Feel free to visit the website for more incredible photos of the Kuna women and the their amazing molas.

The Kuna are a proud culture, who have fought to keep the Panamanian government from taking both their culture and their land away. They do not allow foreigners to live on their land, and foreigners must pay the chief of each island in order to step onto the island regardless of whether that is for 5-minutes or the entire day. Photo Credit: glenfrysinger.com The Kuna people live simply, tightly packed into their island with homes constructed next to one another and rooftops nearly touching, living as one body, sharing everything from every inch of space on the island, common bathrooms (built out over the ocean where everything drops straight down into the ocean), space, supplies, and food. They keep no secrets and are honest in their dealings with everyone. I have decided after spending time amongst this tightly knit group of people, that from now on, I choose to keep only friends who are honest, keep no secrets from one another, and are open in every way. This, I believe, is what I'd like to take away from the islands with me. Thank you Kuna Yala for teaching me how life is meant to be lived, for inspiring me to keep better company and to be better company in life.

Jarabacoa Adventures

After getting a ride from a pastor from Cabarete to Sosua, where I needed to catch the bus to La Vega, I landed in La Vega at about 9:30 pm and had missed all buses going to Jarabacoa until the next morning at 8:30 am. Since I had a reservation in Jarabacoa which I´d already postponed one night, and being bombarded with guys hustling rides, I negotiated a fair price up the canyon with a guy who was nice (even though he tried to charge me double of what I ended up paying him), but he was not blessed with a full deck of cards. After picking up his entire family to ride along, we had no idea where the hotel was located other than the vague address I pulled out of an old guide book. None of us knowing the town, he had to stop at least twelve times (no exaggeration) to ask for directions and still managed to drop me at the wrong hotel, even after picking up a very inebriated local just to guide us directly to the hotel. Turns out, there are two Las Brisas del Yacque hotels in town, and no one seems to know about the one I stayed at even though it's been operating the longest. No wonder the directions people were giving were not jiving with the guide book. Anyway, after being dropped at Las Brisas no. 2, walking with all my bags unsuccessfully and returning to Las Brisas no. 1, the concierge then had to call another taxi for me to drop me three blocks away at the Las Brisas del Yacque (no. 1) where my reservation was and a room less than half the price of LB no 1. Next day I decided to take a horseback guide up to the waterfalls from a ranch just outside of town. The falls were beautiful, and my two 11-year old guides were great, except that they absolutely refused to go at a pace where my bootie was not being hammered against the not-so-great saddle without a horn to hold on to. Oh yeah, and the little guy wanted to ride behind me on my horse, Chocolate, since it was really his horse. OK fine, I thought, until about ten minutes into the ride I could tell that I was going to have a major bruise on my tailbone for days and I was correct. We galloped and trotted our way to two beautiful waterfalls, but I could go the rest of my life without riding another horse....or at least until I have an appropriate saddle and a slower horse. The serendipitous portion of the waterfall tour, was that at the entrance to one of the falls, right before you have to cross a series of suspension bridges (I loved them), I spoke to four other tourists while Joselito and William were tying up the horses. The group was in their late 50's I´d say, and the two men told me about a bed and breakfast that their friend, John, runs in the Colonial Zone of Santo Domingo. When I expressed interest, they called him on the spot and I reserved a room for three nights. Great - since I would be there the next day and didn't have anything else confirmed. The gentlemen then stopped by each morning to visit and check up on me to ensure that I was enjoying my stay, and I became very fond of them both - Stanley and Terry, who were Jewish and loved to tease me about Utah and the Mormon religion. All in good fun of course. They told me a funny story about their visit to Jarabacoa: apparently, the two women that I met at the falls with them were not their wives. They had met these two women the day before in Santo Domingo and invited them for a day trip up to the falls, however on the scenic way back to SD, they had to be pushed out of the mud twice, and were almost stranded in the mountains by a rock slide covering the road for hours. When they told me this story, they said that they were becoming worried because it was late, and they didn't know how to explain to their wives how they were forced to spend the night in Constanza with two strange women they'd just met! In the end, I enjoyed my visit to Jarabacoa, and the feel of the refreshing cool mountain air again.

Panama City

Yippee! I made it to Central America yesterday from the DR. The Panamanians I've met here have been awesome, as well as other travelers. Today I plan to go see the Canal and Casco Viejo, with some Salsa tonight (if I can stay awake - the late nights in Santo Domingo and traveling have made me quite exhausted). Tomorrow I plan to head to Isla Grande by boat via the Canal! From there to San Blas Islands, or at least that´s the current plan, then up to David and on to Costa Rica! So far, I love Panama. The currency is the dollar, so there is no crazy conversion I have to do in my head every time someone throws out a price - yippee, I don´t have to think! More later hopefully with some photos. Also, if you are needing a vacation, come meet me for a week anywhere - I´m missing everyone and would love to see you!

A Nice Finale to My Cabarete Stay

I'm taking off for Jarabacoa this morning - just doing some last minute cleaning and packing. Yesterday I was able to spend an amazing day in the hills above Gasper Hernandez with the Gardiner, Esmiraldo, and his incredible family. I had actually planned to go on Friday, but I misunderstood the meeting place, so at 10 am yesterday morning Esmiraldo's daughter, Sobi, came to fetch me unexpectedly. I was just making my morning cafe con leche, so we drank a cup together upon her arrival, and then took a little car and then a motoconcho to the house up in the hills of Bejuco Blanco where I was promptly greeted with a fresh coconut to drink, and then introduced to the entire family, not just Esmiraldo's wife and daughters, but all of the aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews,

and even Abuela (grandma).

Sobi decided to braid my hair (which I swore I'd never have done) so I've attached the photo for your viewing and entertainment. We hung out, listened to music, and bathed/swam in the river.

It was interesting once again to return to my deluxe apt. in Cabarete with hot running water, a microwave, super soft Egyptian Cotton sheets, leather couches, and a flat screen TV with cable after spending the day in a beautifully tiny, bare, and basic house with a tiny tv, no running water, and an outhouse for a bathroom. I have felt spoiled the entire month, but never as spoiled as I felt today. It's time for me to leave Cabarete and experience real life in the Latin world.

Vamos a vivir!

Soy Flaca

I find it warm and wonderful how the Dominicans refer to one another. You are often called 'Amor' on the street, meaning 'Love'. The best part about it is that there are no boundaries with this name. I hear guys calling girls, girls calling girls, and girls calling guys this name. It is a very typical way to refer to another person here in the DR when you don't know someone's name. My name apparently though, is Flaca, meaning skinny, not so much in a nice way. Delgada means thin and has a more beautiful connotation, but I am Flaca - plain old skinny. When my friends/acquaintances here are referring to me either directly or indirectly, they use Flaca - never my real name which they know. If they would let me choose, I'd choose Amor, Bonita or Delgada but I don't get to choose. That's the beautiful thing about the Latin culture, is that a name is automatically chosen for you that seems fitting, and that is what you are called. I'm Flaca.

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.

Day #3 of the Gripe

I'm going crazy stuck inside with this gripe. However, I'm getting lots of time for self-reflection! Today, my horoscope revealed that I need to "expand [my] social network, and make connections with influences that will motivate [me] to grow smarter and stronger. Good advice by Rob Brezsny. Last week I was informed via my horoscope that I have too much emotional baggage (about 500 lbs of it in fact) and it's time to rid myself of it, because 500 lbs is too much for a 100 lb-er to be trying to lug around. More great advice. Very well then, since I can't go outside and expand my social network, I'm trying to dispose of all this baggage inside. OK, now for a list of things I like about the DR:

• It's OK to hang out at the beach and swim in your underwear - everyone else is doing it.
• It's also OK to go naked or topless - whichever you choose - no one cares.
• The Most Common Pickup Line: I was having a conversation with God just last week, asking him to send a beautiful, nice, funny, smart girl to be my girlfriend, and he sent you - I can't believe it, I am so lucky that he heard me! (one of my personal favorites)
• Anyone can honk at any time, for as long as they like, and as many times as they like, at anything they like. It's ok, just go ahead and honk. If traffic is at a complete stand still, honk even longer and louder - it helps things to move right along.
• If you have to use the bathroom, just zip down the fly and do it regardless of how many poeple or cars are around. It also doesn't matter how indiscrete - a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do, right?
• More Pickup Conversations: Always ask first about a girl's age and whether or not she has kids - then, if she doesn't yet have kids, go ahead and tell her that she needs to have some with you. These items should always come before finding out if she is interested in you or wants kids, and don't bother making small talk such as interests or profession - it's all unspoken yet understood. Also, even if she tells you that she has a boyfriend, tell her that it doesn't matter because you are better than her boyfriend anyway.
• Speedos are absolutely in, Baby! If you choose not to go naked, then wear a sexy speedo. Oh, and the tighter the better. Seriously, why can't we all just wear good old fashioned baggy board shorts?

La Gripe

I have the gripe today. That's the cold/flu that I woke up with yesterday morning. Yick. Although I had to smile this morning when I noticed this cute little frog peering in my window as if to say "buenos dias, rise and shine Senorita, you'll feel better soon". Then the gardner brought me some medicina from the farmacia for my sore throat, congestion, headache, and body aches, and my sweet Canadian neighbors cooked me up a German sausage for lunch! Yep, I eat sausage now (since today) and I'm being well taken care of.

The craziest things happen when you're out and about in the world. The sweet neighbors while cooking the lunch sausage, also informed me that one of our upstairs neighbors (also from Montreal) died yesterday morning. He was hanging out here by the pool the day before, and died that night on the way to the hospital of a fatal stroke. My nieghbor told me that he had a great last day, and reminded me that's what matters. Life is sometimes short and we must live each and every day in a way that fulfills us completely. I heard somewhere that happiness is a gift available to all, and it is our job to find it! More good words of wisdom.

Back to dinking my lemon water, resting, and admiring the beauties that lay just outside my door.

Hit by the Gua-Gua

Another good day at surf - yay! I was sleepy this morning from dancing the Merengue last night until 1 am, but still made it out. After surf, however I had to run errands - store and water refills. The store went ok and I amazingly made it back with three heavy grocery bags hanging off my right arm while driving my moto from Sosua, but when I went to refill water, not so good. I had to go to four different places to get my refill, and while driving around with my 5-gallon bottle resting on the gas tank, I was actaully 'bumped' into by a gua-gua! I couldn't believe he hit me as I was just cruising along my side of the road in search of water. All is well though and I luckily came out of it fine with no major crash - driving here is absolutely nuts!!!!! I've decided to use the moto more sparingly from now on.......

Police Stories and Crazy Happenings

Hi All. I had to laugh at the comment made on yesterday's blog - apparently, as long as I can look good on the beach, I don't need to worry about knowing how to surf? OK then, there were a couple of crazy happenings yesterday to report. Crazy Happening #1: Cosmo witnessed a police ordeal on his park walk yesterday! Police ended an hour-long chase of an ex-con driving his SUV right at Cossie's park during his afternoon walk with the neighbor! Check it out at: http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&sid=2848875 Apparently, the police made Cossie and nieghbor jump in one of their cars to get them out of the park since it all happened right in front of them and the guy had a gun he'd been holding his ex-wife at gunpoint with. I wondered if Cossie, after riding in a police car, has been wanting to join the crime-fighting force as a police K-9. I'm still waiting for a response from neighbor on it. Crazy Happening #2: If you are family, please do not read Crazy Happening #2. While waiting for my gua-gua yesterday, I met a 23-year old, father of three, Dominicano also heading to Puerto Plata via gua-gua. We exited at the same location, and he asked if I'd like to accompany him to the hospital to look at the babies in the nursery. I said 'sure', having no huge plans in P.P, and the hospital located just accross the street. We walked around the hospital and looked at the different rooms with patients crammed inside, and saw the Pediatric room where there were lots of sick tiny children with little I.V.'s in their arm. Pobrecitos -they were adorable. We both agreed that it was educational for me to see what Dominican hospitals are like, and fun to see the tiny little babies newly born with their tired mommies. We then took a motoconcho to another hospital but couldn't have a look inside - they were much tighter on the security there. I ate some lunch, we walked around town a bit, and then headed back to the first hospital, where my new friend was put on a list to see a lady in an office which read "Mujeres", meaning 'Women'. There were also signs reading "Hombres", "Familias" etc. so I wasn't really sure why we were waiting for him to enter the Women's office. While waiting, I decided that I was ready to go back to Cabarete, and he said that was ok, but wanted to ride back together if I didn't mind waiting. I said 'sure' I'd wait, since he had gone to great lengths to find me a bathroom when the hospital bathrooms were too discusting to use - he payed a motoconcho to drive me a few doors down to use the bathroom in a restaraunt while waiting for the doctor. On the way back to Cabarete, I noted 21 people crammed into our gua-gua, which is designed to comfortably hold seven or eight. My new young friend and I were squeezed into the very back corner with me next to the window. This was not a problem for me, as I've packed into hundreds of overly crowded subways, trains, and buses during my travels where I had to cram in tighter than yesterday's ride, and I was happy to have a window seat. I was alarmed however, when we were stopped by the police during a routine roadside check, and they asked where we were coming from and going to. At first I thought they were talking to me, being the sole Gringa in the bunch, but as my friend continued to answer for me (us, him?), another policeman came over to the window I was sitting next to, and I could both see and hear that he meant business and was definitely talking to my friend and not to me. They asked him to get out of the gua-gua and step to the opposite side from where I was sitting. From what I could see, they called over another policeman and continued to question him even further. As I was trying to squeeze a peek at what was going on outside, the gua-gua started driving away with everyone staring at me while I was still trying to see what was happening to my young friend out the back window. No one said anything when I looked curiously at them, they only gave me not-so-nice looks, and I figured that as a foreigner, I'd better not ask the obvious, or I'd probably be guilty by association. We continued to zoom away and I got out at the same stop as we entered, only this time alone and concerned. Having made plans with his tour operator friend to take me up the mountain at 10 am this morning to see the waterfall and forest, when no one showed up to meet me, I was glad that I didn't insist on getting out of the gua-gua to wait for, or unknowingly try to defend my new friend who may have been arrested. What a crazy day! The good news is that I had a great time out surfing this morning. I had fun, and the waves had mellowed out a ton over the past couple of days so I didn't get rolled too hard and even caught a few. Woo hoo!

Words of Wisdom on Surf

Good Morning All. I've decided to take a break from surfing today and take my very first 'gua-gua' (small passenger van hauling people from town to town) into Puerto Plata. I'm so excited! I recieved a great email this morning reminding me: "thats the great thing about surfing, is that it is not you against anybody, just you improving yourself,... and as long as you are having a good time doing it, thats all that matters" This is so true! I had a terrible time with the waves yesterday, in fact I got rolled so hard, that I had water spontaneously pouring out my nose the entire day! The morning before yesterday, while putting my board, leash, wetsuit, and booties away, a seasoned surfer who has lived here for 30 years, asked me how it was going. I told him I had been feeling really discouraged and he told me not to worry - to just get out there and paddle, to work on beefing up my muscles first, try to catch a wave or two, and eventually it will just come. I'm loving this excellent advice, so if anyone else has any..........please send it my way! Namaste.

Cockroaches, Relationships, and Other Scary Things

Uh oh. I'm afraid that I unintentionally invited a visitor into my Cabarete apartment sometime over the past week. He was so inconspicuous that I hardly even noticed him until I opened the bottom cupboard to reach for a tupperware container for my leftover dinner, and saw a very very large bug. Of course my reaction was to freak out, forget about the tupperware for the food, and instead toss my leftover dinner out with the trash. I hadn't seen him again until Stephen, the owner's friend stopped by last night to check out my broken water pump which used to provide me water from a 5-gallon container stored in the cupboard under the stove. My cockroach appeared once again when Stephen was removing the water container from the cabinet in to try a 'spare' pump. Stephen promptly informed me that the owner had never housed cockroaches before, and implied that he wouldn't be happy about it. Oh shit! Could I have just welcomed a colony of enourmous cockroaches into this beautiful, new, clean apartment that I've been allowed the pleasure of staying in for an entire month? This morning before and after surf, I looked all over for the intimidating insect, but he was nowhere to be found. I then decided that I must take whatever necessary actions and remove the small beast from the apt. so I stopped by the market, and bought roach poison. When I got home, I decided to make one last thourough search before having to deliberately poison the insect, and to my surprise I found him! He wasn't very happy about it, but I trapped him in a tupperware container (one which I'm sure he'd been hiding in), took him for a stroll down the beach in the opposite direction as Stephen's apt., and set him free. I don't know if this was the right location to set him free, but I figured that he'd probably find a nice new home somehow. He seemed very resourceful to me. While walking along the beach together, I decided that if I were not staying in someone else's place, I could indeed live with the beetle-bug-looking guy easily enough. Why did I freak out when I saw him for the first time anyway? He certainly wasn't harming me in any way, right?

I decided that it's the same reason some humans are uncomfortable with relationships, some of being alone, some of change, or trying something that we've never tried before. It's the fear of being out of our comfort zone - of changing the way we have been trained to perceive situations or things throughout our lives.

My question then is this (and know that at least a portion of this inquiry has been sparked by my interest is seeing Gov. Spitzer's wife standing by his side as he resigned due to his recent 'mishap' with a prostitute): Why is it easier to eliminate the 'pest' - the cockroach hiding in the cupboard, an intimidating wave, the mistrust, the personality trait which happens to be trying our patience, or perhaps the public appearance beside a cheating husband knowing that your life partner has deceived and publicly embarassed you by soliciting the services of one or more young prostitutes (this courageous act is certainly not for the wishy-washy or weak at heart!) which makes us uncomfortable, rather than just accepting that it's there, and respecting it for what it is, knowing it's intention is not to harm us? Bug or beau....

San Felipe Fortress in Puerta Plata March 8, 2008

I took a quick trip into Puerta Plata after the airport today to see the San Felipe Fortress. I not only found a very cool, ancient fort lying on the edge of the port, built to deter marauding pirates in the 16th century, but to my surprise I also found six of the funniest little Dominicanitos I've encountered yet! They first started out asking me for money, and then turned into these hilarious little posers, as you can see from the photo yourself. We got solo photos, group photos, photos in front of the Fort, photos in front of a statue, photos overlooking the ocean, and they even took photos of us. They finally said 'no mas', and we all enjoyed ice cream together sitting by the ocean. As I drove off, they chased after my car, waving hands and running their little piernas as fast as they could. It was a delightful parting and even though I was denied a tour of the 1880's Brugal Rum Factory (not open on weekends) afterward, my experience in P.P. sent me back to Cabarete with a big smile.

Humpback Whale Migration to Samana Bay

Drove down to Samana with a friend to see the fascinating humpback whale, which has been coming to the Dominican Republic every winter for centuries to mate, give birth, and nurse newborn calves. They say that 1500 or more whales visit Samana Bay for varying lengths of time, with up to 300 present during mid-February, and therefore the World Wildlife fund considers it one of the best places to watch whales. We signed up for a tour with Kim Beddall (founder of whale watching in the bay, and has been doing tours since 1984-85) on the Victoria II, and caught some great views of several different whales; particularly one active male which we spent most of our time observing. I didn't snap any photos, because they spout, then either flipper, breach, tail lob, spyhop or dive, then dissappear before ever getting a great photo opp and absorbing the action for oneself. I chose to take in every single morsel of action, rather than continue to desperately try to get a photo (although it would have been more exciting for my blog readers to see! Please know that I actually did try a couple of times, but then decided it was not happening). Great photos can be viewed however at the links listed below - they are much better than I could have done! I was both amazed and moved by the beauty of these enourmous creatures in their natural setting. Did you know that the migration of the humpback whale is one of the longest of any mammal, and consists of feeding off the coast of New England, Newfoundland, Greenland, and Iceland, then heading south to the Dominican for the winter? This is approximately 3,000 miles that these creatures swim one way! They don't eat for five or six months while they are in the West Indies, and therefore lose up to 1/5 of their body weight. If you'd like to learn more about these amazing sea creatures, feel free to jump onto the following websites: http://www.samana.org.do/whales.htm, http://whale.wheelock.edu/Welcome.html, www.howstuffworks.com/whale, and http://csiwhalesalive.org/csigallery01.html

Beautiful Playa Grande and Playa Preciosa

Took a little journey down to Playa Grande yesterday by car with the board. Had hoped to do a little surfing, but the surf thought otherwise, so instead, just hung out on the beautiful Playa Preciosa (shown in photo). On the way back, stopped to get some lunch in one of the road side cafes, and when asking to eat, the woman said "Pescado?" meaning "fish?", directed one of the boys to disappear down some stairs toward the beach, who returned ten minutes later with a huge round tub full of different types of fish all piled on top of each other in the tub. I was then handed a fork and prompted to stab my fish of choice, however there were so many flies on and around the fish inside the tub, that the server had to shew them away in order to view and select one of the tasty fish. Decided to skip lunch and just wait for dinner on the beach.

Sweet Bike Man!

I just finished finalizing my transaction for both my motorcycle and surfboard for the entire month! OK, so niether are in perfect condition, but the bike looks sweet! I first talked to the guy at the surf shop, who said he'd keep his eye out for one, then I asked the moto driver who brought me home from the surf shop on his bike, and he took me to a guy, who led me to another contact, which led me to two young with cool bikes (both of which they let me ride - I'm pretty sure just to see a girl ride), who then introduced me to the guy I actually got the motorcycle from. Now while the bike may not be perfect (no lights, front brake, barely any back brake, and a clutch that only works part time, and really bent handle bars), it looks sweet! I've posted a photo for your enjoyment and hopefully entertainment. It goes really fast when I can get it to shift into the higher gears, and I sure get lots of stares, being pretty much the only girl flying down the road on a motorcyle.

I can sleep soundly tonight knowing that my surfboard and motorcycle mission is now accomplished, and I'm ready to roll for the next month

Take care for now all.