La Loma

Today's my ninth day in Cabarete and I'm really to the point where I could have nine huge entries about each day. Really, at least so far, so much has gone on. This past week was my "orientation" week, which meant that the other volunteers (they're all girls by the way, Cape people, think Hyannis Mets '05 times two) and I went to a bunch of cool places and did all kinds of stuff over this past week. Taking a guagua for the first time, going surfing, helping out with kids' windsurfing lessons, and exploring an old Spanish fort are just some of the things I did this week. You'll hear about most of that stuff in future entries. Instead I'll continue to focus on giving you a feel for my immediate surroundings.

The most exhausting experience of the week was climbing the loma, which is somewhere between a big hill and a small mountain and is located at the end of my street (aptly named callejon de la loma). The loma is a national park with an abundance of caves, paths, and horses running around. Chiche, the gatekeeper for the DREAM Center (the school where I work), acted as our guide as we headed out for a day on the loma to go swimming in a cave and eat lunch. Initially I intended to memorize the path we took to the cave so that I could come back whenever I wanted. Initially that was possible as we walked down a narrow dirt road. It became a little more difficult once Chiche took a sharp left turn into the woods on a small footpath. Then it became impossible once we got to Chiche's loma hut after about a mile and a half walk up. We rested for a few minutes, he told his family to start making lunch while we went swimming at the cave, and then he pulled out his machete.

Chiche bushwhacked his way through the woods to eventually bring us to one of the caves. It turns out there are a lot of caves that are much more convenient to get to, but Chiche was hellbent on going to this one in particular. We wound through the woods (I swear there are times we could've been going in circles), trying to not let branches drill us in the face after the person in front of us pushed them out of their way. I had no idea how he knew where he was going, or how he found any sort of reference points amongst those trees, but he did. After another long walk we arrived at the mouth of a cave. Peering in it really didn't look like there was any water. It looked like a cave with a rocky bottom. But a closer look showed water so clear that it didn't look like water.

A 2+ mile walk up a hill in a country where sitting at home makes you sweat meant that everyone was in the water in a hurry. Soon there were ten gringos and a handful of Dominicans in the icy cold water. It really was a scene straight out of the beginning of a bunch of horror movies...white "tourists" splashing around and laughing in a dark freshwater cave. No one got dragged under by some random monster/animal in this one though It's a little funny, the Dominicans were freezing while all the white people were fine, not having been "spoiled" by the warm waters of the Caribbean their whole life. We dried off and headed back to our camp, I assume on the same "path" we came on but who knows.

Back at Chiche's it was nice to finally relax and be well fed. Dominicans here are very generous. The portions of food Chiche delved out were way too big, even for me. The food of choice here is known as la bandera (the flag) because it is the Dominican meal. Rice, beans, and chicken. Plain and simple. And good. Chiche threw in some avocado too. Sitting around eating in the shade with a nice breeze was the first time since I stepped out my door earlier that morning that I wasn't wet from sweating or from swimming. That rarely happens here, it's probably one of the most underrated aspects of day to day life back home in the States.

Quick rundown of everything other stuff from this week (that I'll get to more in depth later [I'm definitely going to forget some stuff too]):
Guagua - cheap form of public transportation with 20 people on a bus (read: a little bigger than a minivan).
Spanish fort - pretty cool, I mean if you like forts.
Puerto Plata - meh.
The DREAM Center - wicked nice.
Surfing - frustrating, hard, tiring, and induces sore muscles and bruised ribs.
Helping with windsurfing lessons- awesome except for not knowing how to windsurf.

Tomorrow morning I'm working on a census. I'll be walking around to houses in the neighborhood and asking questions so we can collect data for our school. I think I may try writing more often so I can get more stuff in. Stay tuned.