Hurricanes; Vulnerability and Danger in the Caribbean

Pico Duarte- Mud, Mules, and Mountain

February 27th--- Dominican Independence Day

Here in the Dominican Republic, February 27th is kind of like July 4th in the United States.  The day celebrates independence from Haiti in 1844.   Here in Santo Domingo it’s a big deal with the closure of classes, businesses and people here in the capital hanging flags and all things red, white, and blue from windows, balconies, and even cars.

When I first arrived here and learned about the importance of February 27th, I assumed the day commemorated independence from Spain and freedom from colonization.  But that’s not the case.   February 27th celebrates independence from Haiti, not Spain.   Although in the mid-1800’s Haiti had a population 8-10 times the Dominican Republic and was much wealthier in large part due to the enslavement of almost a million Africans, the idea that independence from Haiti, a country that is now one of the poorest in the hemisphere, is so important may illuminate why the two countries, that share a small island, still have such a strained relationship.

Whatever the events that led to the celebration of February 27th as independence day, the celebration itself is a lot of fun.   Besides parades and decorations, one tradition at our school is the Comparsas.   When I first asked what Comparsas really was, my friend Anyel described it as a dance and music show-- but in the style of a carnival parade. Groups of people perform an elaborate dance routines with props and costumes.  These often act out scenes or make references to important themes in Dominican Culture.   At our school, one group celebrated coffee growers while another did an interpretation of battle for independence complete with a leaf blower confetti cannon.  Each group of classroom parents tries to out-do each other with props and costumes.  The final result is a show that would impress most Broadway producers.  Dance is important to Dominicans so this is a chance to really show-off what they can do.  The students move and swivel, march and jump in an orchestrated triumph of color, lights, feathers, choreography.  Our school used the spectacular new gymnasium to show off the dance skills of our community.  Each elementary classroom did a dance and the show ended with the teachers and a few guest administrators participating in a fake beauty contest.    The production itself featured lights, smoke machines and an actual film crew with several cameras.  The whole thing looked like it had the production value of an Oscar-like award show.

Living outside the United States for a few months has given me a different perspective on the country.  With the election this November, living in a place where dictatorship, tyranny, and corruption have deep and recent cultural roots, it’s easy to reflect about what we could become.  Still, watching the celebration of dance, pride, and spirit reminds us that the government is only a small part of a nation’s culture.   Dance on…. D.R.

Check out more Comparsas  

I've got butter in my pocket, I've got good sand on my feet.

There is a song my 12 year-old daughter listens to---actually I listen too and I'm not afraid to tell you that it's by Justin Timberlake- it goes something like, "I got that sunshine in my pocket, Got that good soul in my feet". That's what it felt like as we visited Samana bay to visit friends, watch whales and celebrate my daughter's birthday. One of the things that's great about the D.R. is the incredible spirit and joy of the people. It seems like most folks have an abundance of good spirit and a joyfulness that is contagious. I was counting on that when I headed out from our beautiful condo in Samana and hit the road mixing a workout with a search for a single ingredient essential for my daughter's birthday breakfast. We needed butter to complete the pancakes and it was my job to get it.


Samana is wonderfully hilly compared to the capital city, so as the run began I headed down hill toward a little village past palm trees and all sorts of tropical greenery and into the village of maybe two dozen houses. Another endearing quality of the D.R. is the Colmado. These open-walled convenience stores are the hub of the community and dot almost every corner of the city. Each little village has several Colmados of varying size. Some aren't much bigger than a closet and others look more the little neighborhood stores we grew up with in Vermont. The first few Colmados I stopped at didn't have refrigeration, except for beer, so I was forced to push on. I passed a school, a bunch of houses perched on the hillside, and enjoyed spectacular views of Samana bay hundreds of feet below. After two or three miles I found a little larger settlement with a larger Colmado. I used my infant-level Spanish to ask for mantequilla or butter and got a big grin and a "Si!". Now back in the states, I would have expected to purchase a nice geometric square, or rectangle of butter, but in the DR, things are not always how I expect. The guy running the Colmado, swiftly grabbed a plastic bag, the kind you bring back from a pharmacy not a fancy zip-lock, and proceeded to scoop margarine into the bag from a one-gallon tub on the counter. After a couple big spoonfuls I was a little afraid that he would fill the entire bag.



I told him "good" and "okay" and he very officially tied off the bag, weighed it, and told me I owed him about twenty-five cents. Of course this wasn't the end of the conversation. The Colmado guy was patient and cheerful asking me questions about where I was from and seemed impressed that I was actually living and working in Santo Domingo. At the end of the conversation he was telling me something about Jesus Christ and God but I didn't catch all of it. This kind of conversation happens fairly often. A few days before I chatted with a guy in Santo Domingo for about five minutes. I thought we were talking about the weather, the guy had plenty of gestures to the sky and it had rained earlier in the day. After I mentioned rain, water in the streets, and the nice cool evenings I finally realized he was preaching about God and other deeper issues while I was making idle conversation. Those chats always end with a slap on the back or a handshake, and a friendly, "okay, okay". It's this great spirit doing things their own way and the gift for conversation that have impressed me so much with the Dominicans. Everyday they remind me that even in dark times it's good to run through life as Justin Timberlake might sing, with "Butter in my pocket and good sand on my feet". After finishing the conversation with the Colmado guy in Samana, I ran back to the Condo and prepared for a great day of whale watching. The butter made it home in my pocket, and the pancakes Whit made were fantastic.