Saludos.
Many people have been emailing me questions about some of the finer details about life here in the DR. Jim from Sioux City, Iowa, wants to know whether or not people eat plantains the same way they eat regular bananas. Debbie from Provo, Utah, is curious if we have ceiling fans AND air conditioning units in our classrooms. And finally, Viurnesh from Zagreb, Croatia, wants to know when I will be visiting beautiful Zagreb for their annual Kicking The Car festival. Well, in answer to these and the dozens of other questions I've gotten over the last few months from readers around the world, here is the blog entry for December written as an average weekday in Santo Domingo.
Rising at 6, I indulge in my daily breakfast of Bruggen fruit cereal purchased from the nearby La Cadena grocery store with some sliced banana on top (unless our lovely maid, Juana, made us Spanish tortilla that week to munch on). The air conditioned bus, driven by the ever-popular Demitrios, makes its rounds at both 6:40 and 6:50, and I usually opt for the 6:50, but sometimes, if I am in the mood for a little morning sweat stroll, I march down Ave. Enriquillo to Sarasota to the school and it takes only about 10 minutes. Upon passing the 10 or so security guards who always check all vehicles for bombs with their giant-sized dental mirror and the 10 or so maintainance workers sweeping the sidewalks, I pass into the hallowed halls of Carol Morgan School. The first thing I do after opening my classroom door is turn on the two overhead fans and then to the wall by my desk to switch the two air conditioning units on max. When the kids come in at 7:30, they will invariably tell me it's too cold in the room but I promptly insult them for being pampered and weak and tell them the cold will keep them far more alert for the day's lesson (they don't seem to pick up on the irony that even having air conditioning is pampering). (FYI, my two AP Language and Composition classes have about 12 students each and my English 11 classes are closer to 20.) I will likely have to ask students to stop speaking Spanish a couple of times during each class period, which they decend into when they are either wanting to talk to one another about their social lives or get stymied when trying to express their ideas related to class in English; this has been such a problem that the school has signs posted all around which instruct students to speak "English First." Depending on where we are in the unique "5 period per day out of 7 period tumbling schedule", I might get the chance to see my amazingly deft principal teach his S.A.T. prep class that he chose to do in order to "keep [his] sanity." How refreshing to see an administrator do whatever he can to keep a legitimate connection to actual teaching.
The CMS cafeteria serves up food for three lunches per day, one for each school (elementary through high), so by the time it our turn, most of the food is picked over. Dominicans have a thing for fried food and grease so there is never any shortage of anything that will piss off your cardiologist. Not cheap for either a cafeteria or the Dominican, the food usually rings up to something around $3.50 or $4, and if you want a salad, keep dreaming. The school day ends at 2:15 and then kids who need extra help will come in for a half hour of Enrichment. When I leave school, the temperature is around 80 degrees which is just about right to head to the Hotel Fiesta for a dip. A good choice for dinner would be Zona Fria which is owned by a Taiwanese couple and they make light and healthy asianish food (though we still debate exactly what some of the menu items are and what their "background" is); a dinner there usually sets us back about 6 dollars for two people. Another good possibility might be the local chain favorite Adrian Tropical which serves great Mangu (mashed plantains), Mafongo, and Sancocho.
If I am lucky, I will at some point in the day have a chance to use my newly learned Dominican facial expressions taught to me by friend George (see photos above). The first is the proper way to indicate that you mean that thing over there. The second is a way of indicating to whom you are speaking that you want more information. George is seen here performing a special version of the maneuver that he strangley only reveals at gringo parties and therefore is probably an expression that means something like "kick my white American ass, please" -- I'm glad he taught us all that!
When it is all said and done, I will likely have seen about 50 or so hired security guards throughout my day around the city, all of whom carry shotguns -- the DR LOVES guns in a way that would make Charleston Heston wet himself.
Well, hopefully everyone has a jolly holiday season and these blogs will continue back up in January after I freeze my arse off for two weeks in the snowy land of Idaho. And, Viurnesh, I am not sure when or if I will make it to Zagreb, but I will be sure to kick a few random cars just to imagine how much fun that festival of yours must be.
Feliz Navidad y prospero ano!
