Relaxing on the Atlantic Coast
Trip Start
Apr 12, 2007
1
8
9
Trip End
Apr 22, 2007
Las Terrenas,
Dominican Republic
Saturday, April 21, 2007
I found myself among many Haitians in Las Terrenas who ended up being some of the nicest people I've bumped into on my journey. Those who aren't working as taxistas with motoconchos (moto-taxis) are often construction workers or freelance artists and vendors of various types of baubles and knickknacks. Some of the artwork was quite good and of the most cheerful colors and scenes. Most of the boutiques in Las Terrenas are owned by French expats who recognize the quality of artwork produced by these immigrants and sell their works to the more affluent visitors who don't like to tread into the markets or outlying areas where many painters exhibit their work along the roads outside the center of town, though a few had established themselves enough to afford small studios in town where more people could appreciate and consume their work.
One afternoon after being punished once again by the blaring sun I found myself in the humidor room of one of the French boutiques. The owner happened to be inside while I investigated the manifold cigars for sale, pretending to know much more than I do, for while I smoked plenty of good cigars in Cuba (and have sampled many nice stogies from the DR), I don't really care too much for tobacco. We spoke in Spanish, and although I had been passing myself off as Canadian/Colombian since the Virginia Tech shooting a few days ago due to the barrage of questions and criticisms aimed at me for the latest example of terror learned and applied by the citizenry as a viable problem solving method justified by the conduct of the state, I confessed my nationality as we spoke of Cuban cigars and the embargo on the island, among other things. The Frenchman turned out to be a retired journalist who had spent much time in Haiti covering the horrors there before retiring to Las Terrenas where he has been now for 15 years.
Can you guess the perspective of this thoroughly European gentleman residing in the heart of the Caribbean? Needless to say, we had much in common and ended up shooting the moist breeze there amidst the redolent cigars for about an hour. Many europeos I encounter glom on to americanos like me who don't refurbish the echoes of the punditry or regurgitate the artisan bilge that pass as public opinion and patriotic propriety in L'America, for they surely aren't bludgeoned daily with the spin generated by the image-makers and cheesemongers who assure us the US is a veritable colony of Heaven where french fries ought to be called freedom fries. But we dropped our general disconent with the global pug and spoke more about history and the lessons it taught, as France has learned many during its rise and fall as an empire and world power and can no doubt see aspects of its own hyper-inflated self-image and arrogance in the young World Warrior. But France learned by bitter experience where that leads to, as will the US, for you cannot deny that all empires eventually expire.
While I enjoyed the palaver we had engaged in as the sun began to set, I had come for cigars and it was a short sermon on tobacco after our detour which led me to pick my smoke and get back to my bungalow for a shower before dinner. Frenchie threw in some freebies that he had rolled himself and they were actually pretty good, though nothing close to the Arturo Fuentes I also walked out with.
I had planned on checking out the disco in the evening. However, upon seeing the menagerie of Haitian sundowners peppering the entrance and walkways in both directions leading to it, I passed and headed out to some of the tapas bars and local dives that lie on the beach itself, some of them with cushions and couches on wooden decks above the waves. Plenty of French, Germans and Italians were out and about, but the scene was tranquil and low-key seeing as how tourism is at a lull this time of year. On my way home I stopped and shared a bottle of Brugal with a Haitian artist who painted and sold his work across the street from where I was staying. He reminded me a lot of some Hispanics I know in the states who go through hell to migrate towards more money and opportunity - racism, poverty and a yearning for home all plaguing him as he struggled to earn a living. I'm not a fan of drinking rum straight-up, but it seemed proper as he reeled off a symphony of trials and tribulations for me, though he also laughed plenty and sported a big smile as the night wore on and the rum warmed our bellies...
All in all Las Terrenas was very pleasant and scenic. If it hadn't rained the second day I was there I would have headed out to the waterfall at El Limón which is a big attraction on the peninsula. But now my trip is coming to a close and I've one more ride across the country back to Santo Domingo. Maybe I'll hit the market and see if I can't find my camera for sale somewhere...
