Holiday! Celebrate! Part 1.

This past week I have enjoyed lots of new experiences in this country, for two reasons.

1. I travelled around.
2. I travelled around with a man.

Travelling with a man changes everything. You feel invisible, in the most refreshing way possible. Nobody hisses at you on the street. Nobody tries to grab your attention. Nobody makes eyes at you. Nobody tells you they are falling in love with you. To these jerks, you don´t exist. And it´s very very nice.

My friend Paul came to visit (my first visit!) from Madrid and we travelled for 4 days and had 4 days in Las Terrenas. Paul is a big, tall, fair, rugby-playing Irishman, with a Madrid accent so thick that some people here couldn´t understand his jokes. He arrived into the capital, Santo Domingo, last Friday and I met him there. Santo Domingo is fine, but nothing impressive or beautiful. There are historical buildings there that illustrate colonialism´s story on the island, but mostly it is loud and dirty and busy. For the foreigners here, Santo Domingo is important - sometimes you just need to go to a mall or an Ikea and get stuff done (or in my case, drink a dark beer). We, however, had no need for malls or Ikeas, so we hopped on a bus the next day to Jarabacoa.

Extremely excited to find a beer that is not Presidente.

Jarabacoa is in the centre of the country, and is a place where people go when they want to hike, be in a cooler climate and get away from the city buzz of Santiago and Santo Domingo. After spending 3 days there, I left with the impression that it was a beautiful countryside filled with the friendliest people and the cheapest, simplest food. We ate rice and beans and roast chicken and aubergine and tayota for a couple of euros each, and drank Presidente beer with everything. Tayota is apparently called chayote in English, and belongs in the gourd family. 

Tayota

We ate all of it. (Photo: Paul Devlin)

We stayed one night in Rancho Ruiseñor, where we played with the owner´s 5 year old daughter and their many dogs. We met an American couple and went out dancing with them, which was lots of fun. We saw a live group of bachateros, a 10 piece band playing bachata and merengue and did lots of dancing.

Me doing some sidewalk bachata. (Photo: Paul Devlin)

With bleary eyes the next day we went on a (possibly ill-advised after drinking) adventure – paragliding. I´m not someone who particularly likes running off mountain tops but Paul is, so he convinced me. And I ain´t no chicken.

Flying Tony came highly recommended with all the guide books, which reassured me. They drove us up to the top of a mountain, hooked a parachute and an instructor onto us and told us to run off the mountain. I did not like that idea. And if your friends jump off a mountain are you going to, too? Apparently, yes.

Luckily I didn´t have to really feel the sensation of running off a mountain – I took one step and the parachute filled and I couldn’t go forward anymore and then WHOOOSH I was in the air clambering to sit back in the little basket-like seat they have. Paul reckons he got a good 10 steps down the mountain face before he took off – the disadvantage of being a big rugby player becomes apparent in this sport. I flew so high – right up over the mountain peak I had just run off and into the clouds. In the clouds it was white and colder and I could see nothing but white, it was crazy. For the rest of the flight my instructor gently navigated us over the green, mountainous farmland of Jarabacoa. It really is quite a peaceful experience, unless you want to puke the whole time as I did. My instructor said that was really common and suggested he do a spin, tilting my little basket seat to one side so I could puke over the edge on not on us. Eh, no. No way, Jose.  So when I saw Paul landing (gravity didn´t permit Paul to fly so high) I said I was done and could land. I managed to keep all the puke in and did not look like the scaredy cat that I am. Hurrah.

Paul looking slick.

Me and Marcos, the man responsable for my life.

El Salto de Jimenoa as seen from above (and my shoe). The waterfall is in the opening scene of Jurassic Park,

Jarabacoa countryside from the air.

That night we stayed in Jarabacoa Mountain Hostel, run by a lovely couple called Molly and Rodolfo. Molly came to the DR from the USA many years ago as a kid, because her mother was a Jehovah´s Witness missionary. There she met Rodolfo, and now runs the hostel with him, while they build a small hotel and produce bouncing babies. They are the picture of glowy happiness.

The next day, a local guide called David brought us to a waterfall that people scale up and jump off. Paul, being a big brave man, did it. I watched and thought about whether or not I could drag his body back down to the road.

Paul and David 

Thankfully, Paul and David survived, and I got a awesome video of Paul jumping, so he never has to do it again.

This is how pineapples grow. Mad.

 Our final night in Jarabacoa was spent in Sonido del Yaque, which is an ecotourism project run by a women´s cooperative there. To get there, we crammed in the back of a guagua with all our bags until eventually they dropped us off at the side of the road and pointed downwards to our destination.

"Sure it´s all an experience" (Photo: Paul Devlin)

We dragged our bags down a gazillion steps until we arrived at the cabañas.  There are several cabins split into two rooms, each room with a bathroom, shower (HOT WATER!!!), a bunk bed and a double bed. You can swim in the river, go hiking, or just chill out and read. 

These two photos show where some of the community live, the little yellow building is their school.

Claribel´s house, where we ate a delicious dinner and breakfast.

Claribel´s kitchen (the other side of the house, where they sleep, is properly sealed).

Our cabin, with Claribel´s mom and Antonio.

Antonio, Paul, Claribel´s mom and Claribel in the kitchen.

Inmerlin, Claribel´s 5 year old daughter. A bright, sweet little girl.

After a couple of months of observing the back foot that women in this country start on from birth, and the inequalities doled out until death, it was wonderful to see an example of an autonomous women´s cooperative that collaborates with the men in the community. They are poor, but they have a lot, as the grandmother said. They all boasted of how intelligent Inmerlin was and they were so open and welcoming to us. Our one night there was full of conversations and eating together and being outside and healthy happiness. And for the cabin, 2 dinners and 2 breakfasts it cost less than €20 total. I will definitely go back.

From Jarabacoa, we continued on. But that is for another post. Because I have a pool party to get to. It´s a hard life.