Sleep deprivation, Santo Domingo style

I don't remember the last time we stayed in of an evening. For the last two weeks, there's been something going on every evening, either in Santo Domingo, or on one of our jaunts around the country. That means a lot of dancing, talking in Spanglish - which is massively tiring in itself - and generally meeting new people. With the heat/sun/noise of the others having breakfast meaning that there's a consistent wake-up time of 7am, I'm beginning to feel a night off is in order. There is a lot to do in this city, and although we are keeping things fairly mainstream by spending time in the colonial zone, mixing in with the locals has been a great experience. Latin girls have a passion that I admire and really know how to enjoy themselves without taking it all way too seriously. Being Western and "the Other" when we go out means that its easier to talk to people - they're more open and more interested in you, whether its for your money or not is a different question, and something you catch onto pretty quickly.

The week just gone, Gisela, the school's language teacher switched from English to French classes. I'm unsure of the value of this since the grasp of English is so poor and of the two languages, English is of more use for these guys, with the US being the country's major political and economic investor. in any case, teaching French, in Spanish, was an interesting experience and something I will have to repeat before leaving since Gisela worked out that I speak more French than she does.

This weekend we stayed around Santo Domingo, visiting some amazing native indian caves - Los Tres Ojos (pic), the National Aquarium, and a beach nearby San Cristobal called Playa Najayo. It was pretty much deserted and the water was lovely. The one cafe at the beach was taken over by a family just having a great afternoon chilling out and chatting. The mother asked if we wanted some fish so she and I took a walk to chat with some local fishermen, who had been out in the ocean minutes before, catching whatever it was they could find in the shallows. Mirella - I think that was her name - then proceeded to cook the best seafood I have had in a very long time, if not ever. There was plenty for us and we couldn't even finish it, throw in a couple of drinks and you have a feast for three all for the bargain price of 800 pesos, that's about 4 pounds each. She also wanted us to go and see her house (a bed and breakfast place that looked pretty nice on the flyer) but I felt a little odd about that and we returned home. Today's sign of poverty, a family home with no money for a Christmas tree or decorations so a regular tree sits in the garden, with used fruit juice cartons as replacement baubles.