After driving from La Cumbre in Salcedo, we set off for Las Terrenas through the northeast countryside. We asked for directions a couple of times; not because we were lost but because it seemed we were going nowhwere so it was best to make sure. Lord! Those roads through the campos are the most jumpy I have ever been to. Probably Aruba’s rock safari was comparable but not really. In any event, we finally made it to Nagua and stopped, of course, at Chen’s. Comedor Chen is this small restaurant facing the beach—a bit far from it, but facing it nonetheless—where this older woman has some of the best food you can eat on the eastern part of the island. We chatted with her and she said she has been there for more than 30 years, which is true because I have always seen that place there and I lived in Nagua when I was five years old. She started with a roadside stall and then moved to a better room location paying $70 pesos a month back then. Then she moved to the current location which was then expanded. She was so cute and fun to talk to. We had crab meat in creole sauce, I had claws (muelas) and Wilma meat (masa) with tostones and a Presidente Light along with a cereza juice. We also got a side of beans because they made some of the best beans e-ver.
On our way to Las Terrenas we stopped by my aunt’s house in Sanchez and then met Wilma’s friend, Ivan, to go up the mountain to then go down to our destination. We drove through the cliffs and raggety roads to finally get to his house. His wife is in France. She left that same day to go give birth to their third child. She is French and he is Dominican. There’s a lot of French and Italian ex-pats there. He’s an civil engineer, entrepreneur and previously tourism minister for the region. His house is beautiful. It’s simple yet elegant and very practical. Here’s a picture of one side of the house. We stayed in the pool house which was very comfortable. His son Natan is 8 years old and a total riot. I like the kid. But I liked one of the dogs more. Lolo, he was my favorite; even if he wouldn’t let us out of the car every night barking and growling at us. He’s a guard dog but totally cool—in daylight. :)
Our first night there we went out to this very nice beachfront place called El Mosquito. It was the cutest bar with couches facing the water where we sipped on some caipirinhas while listening to the waves in dimed lighting. It was nice. There were some Americans next to us but everyone else was European except for some Dominican sanquinpankis accompanying them.
{Alllow me to clarify what a sanquipanqui is. Sanquipanquis are people, male or female, gay, straight or both depending on request, that “hang out” with tourist for a nominal fee, i.e. prostitutes. They are not, however, your typical street corner prostitute. They may be, but they “hang out” with tourist it seems for longer periods rather than by the hour or night. They’re kinda like rent-a-boyfriends/gfs for your stay there. You can totally tell which ones are sanquipanquis by the way they dress and/or the fact that you see a very, very, very dark—usually young—woman with an while European at all the different venues and/or beaches throughout the island. The no. 1 reason why people come to the DR is for its people, according to surveys. I wonder if it is only for these type of people or just people in gerenal. They tell me it is the latter but I really don’t think so. }
Anyway, after El Mosquito we headed to the place across the street for some music and possibly dancing. There was no one there so we headed to another place. Finally we decided to go into this place where all the locals go. Well, all the locals in a bar/club on a Sunday night are the sanquis so it was quite surreal. We were two of about 10 people who were not prostitute-looking folk out of like 50 to 60. It was so much fun to be there but also so sad. That must have been and STD breeding ground. You probably could hardly breathe in there without catching one. Even sadder was the fact that most of those people were little by little selling their dignity for money. They were objectifying themselves for money. They were literally selling their soul for money. After a while, even with the two drinks I had in me, we left. It was too much. When we got home, Lolo, my favorite of the two very scary-looking dogs at the house, would not recognize us so we were trapped in the car for a bit until Ivan came to open the door. It was hilarious. We were in the car and the dog would bark/growl which would make us close the windows.
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