Another historical marker arrived in my Caribbean theater in the form of an eager, hairy, tanning machine: my first visitante, my little 
brother. A vacation of epic proportions (“epic”), just rough enough around the edges to keep us grounded in the fact that this is indeed Peace Corps. The pristine post-card beach was precipitated by a grueling 1.75 hour slog in the sun sans bola (free ride), but a saintly and mysterious neighbor did pass by on a motorcycle and gave us 2 cold 
Cokes. Bean climbed the coco trees. Ask him if it was as painful as it looks. The whirring horde of my housemate mosquitoes was kept at bay by the arsenal of repellent products he smuggled through customs.
The crux of our brief time together was spent in an all-inclusive casino hotel. I mean, we were surviving Hurricane Dean by the barest margin, of course. Bean and another pcv’s visiting bro were the only members of our group to actually see any hurricaney action since they were free to leave the hotel and scout out the waves. Dean passed the capital dry, however and we were left unscathed and without wild war stories.
Just to illustrate the brilliance of my brother and family—Charlie brought me 4 books, including the coveted ultimo of Harry Potter and a plastic schnapps bottle filled with Jameson’s whiskey. What a wise and lovely chap. In case anyone is still wondering Dominican coffee + jameson’s + sugar + powdered milk + butter ≠ deliciousness. Many laughs indeed. As a parting thank you for planning this bangarang adventure, he bought me a mammoth machete. And put the mouse
and lizard we caught in the sticky traps under the table out of their misery. Nice to have a varón around for that one.
My friends threw a rocking merengue despedida our last night in town and sent him off in style—with some hip new dance steps, a belly full of fritos and johnny cake (pronounced yanni-cake-uh) and the hearts of all muchachas in range.
What a tiguere. I think he managed to learn a little Spanish from the 10-day Try to Get Betsy To Translate program I put him in upon arrival. If anyone else is interested, the results are fair to middling in the language department, but off the charts in fun. For me anyway. Thanks, Beanie. You’re a kick and a half.
You can see Bean peeking out from the privacy of my luxurious bath house. Cold showers are better than they sound.
brother. A vacation of epic proportions (“epic”), just rough enough around the edges to keep us grounded in the fact that this is indeed Peace Corps. The pristine post-card beach was precipitated by a grueling 1.75 hour slog in the sun sans bola (free ride), but a saintly and mysterious neighbor did pass by on a motorcycle and gave us 2 cold 
Cokes. Bean climbed the coco trees. Ask him if it was as painful as it looks. The whirring horde of my housemate mosquitoes was kept at bay by the arsenal of repellent products he smuggled through customs.The crux of our brief time together was spent in an all-inclusive casino hotel. I mean, we were surviving Hurricane Dean by the barest margin, of course. Bean and another pcv’s visiting bro were the only members of our group to actually see any hurricaney action since they were free to leave the hotel and scout out the waves. Dean passed the capital dry, however and we were left unscathed and without wild war stories.
Just to illustrate the brilliance of my brother and family—Charlie brought me 4 books, including the coveted ultimo of Harry Potter and a plastic schnapps bottle filled with Jameson’s whiskey. What a wise and lovely chap. In case anyone is still wondering Dominican coffee + jameson’s + sugar + powdered milk + butter ≠ deliciousness. Many laughs indeed. As a parting thank you for planning this bangarang adventure, he bought me a mammoth machete. And put the mouse
and lizard we caught in the sticky traps under the table out of their misery. Nice to have a varón around for that one.My friends threw a rocking merengue despedida our last night in town and sent him off in style—with some hip new dance steps, a belly full of fritos and johnny cake (pronounced yanni-cake-uh) and the hearts of all muchachas in range.
What a tiguere. I think he managed to learn a little Spanish from the 10-day Try to Get Betsy To Translate program I put him in upon arrival. If anyone else is interested, the results are fair to middling in the language department, but off the charts in fun. For me anyway. Thanks, Beanie. You’re a kick and a half.
You can see Bean peeking out from the privacy of my luxurious bath house. Cold showers are better than they sound.
This last one is for you, Mom. Here’s me in the 
glory that was our room the first and last night, sporting my bottle of anti skin fungal magic: Selsun Blue.
glory that was our room the first and last night, sporting my bottle of anti skin fungal magic: Selsun Blue.
1 comment:
Hey girl how is the selsen blue working for you? Nice shots of the bean. LOVE YA mom
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