Break on Through

After two days of back breaking slog on the ocean, with a stop on a wee island in between, we have arrived in the Dominican Republic in a place called Samana late at night. In the morning we could see it was a pretty little bay where a bridge led out to a beautiful coconut palmed island, and, had the water not looked like that of a neglected aquarium, it would have been truely lovely. As it is, at night with a few cocktails in you, I doubt most people notice.

A wee while later, 5 dudes boarded our boat, and sat around, asking questions, though if we had been smuggling contraband, it would have been well unloaded by then. After filling out a few forms and giving them some corn chips, they left, satisfied, though one of them did say that he wouldn´t have minded having a cold coca cola from our fridge if we happened to have one, at which point I cursed him for his insolence, attempted to wrest his firearm off him, and was pistol-whipped until bloody. No, really.

This town seems more like the Carribean I remember from my last trip here, with tons of dudes roaring around on motorbikes, and/or trying to sell me stuff. The beer here is cheap, as is the food. The place is swarming with palm trees and heavy rain. The people seem pretty nice so far, relaxed, and yet hustling. It has an interesting history, this small town. A lot of Africans freed from slavery in America landed here on their way to Liberia, where they were being sent or wanted to go, I don´t know, and many of them stayed in Samana, making an English speaking community in this otherwise Spanish speaking country. However, a while later, and angry and paranoid dictator burnt the town down twice, and made them speak Spanish, and by that, I dont mean that he asked in a pleading tone of voice. However, one of the semi officials that boarded our boat said that his parents were from the USA, and spoke English in his home as he was growing up, so he had a reasonably good grasp of it.

Speaking Spanish is fun, and I take to heart the advice of an old sailor who said to gesticulate vigorously and waggle your eyebrows alot. Already I feel a lot more expert than I actually am, which really is the point of speaking a foreign language.

Well, I´ll write more as I see more,

Uncle Traveling Mike