Last week, we were high up in the mountains, fighting off mosquito ( by the way, thank you Jaime for your professional advise on Malaria, it is too late now!) , riding disobedient mules, drinking river water on the advice of Pablo, the crazy mountain man, and fighting with real estate agents. After a 9 hour tense flight, we are back in civilization. I still don't feel like I can face this place yet, so no phone calls for today!! I will call you tomorrow when I feel more human and can find the charger for my cell phone :)

I will just send this as a quick summary. Give me a few days, and I can get a blog site uploaded with the pictures, details, etc....

The flight to Puerto Plata was okay. Cecil wanted the window seat, complaining that he never had a chance to see the scenery. So, he got the window seat. After take-off, he promptly fell asleep and remained that way for the duration of the flight. Mom was worried about being able to go to the bathroom the entire flight, so I had to coordinate that. She was also giving Cecil disapproving looks. It reminded me of watching The Curse of the Golden Flower with him in Richmond....the whole theatre was giving him disapproving looks as he chewed on popcorn and slurped his drink.... :)

We arrived at the Puerto Plata aeropuerto at night time, and was directed by a Sunquest vacation agent to our transfer bus. The porter demanded a tip (this was foreshadowing for what's to come for the next 7 days), and none of us had any pesos ready for him. On the bus, I think the Sunquest agent was pointing out landmarks, the lush vegetations, and other various things she deemed important. Did I mention it was pitch dark outside and her microphone was broken?

We were booked into the Fun Royale Tropicale all inclusive resort, which is in the Playa Dorada complex. Playa Dorada is the largest all inclusive complex in the world, with probably over 30 individual resorts. It is what I call a "prison" compound. They give you a wrist band, which you can't take off for the duration of the stay, and they try to keep everyone inside, because the outside is just too "dangerous". It is literally a compound, with gates and security guards patrolling the perimeters. You can't get in unless you are on a tour bus, or wearing a wrist band. Right now, I still have the wrist band on. It's kind of like the prisoner numbers tattooed on Jewish concentration camp prisoners, I am having separation anxieties :)

After some disgusting food at the resort, we started calling real estate agents and booked appointments outside of the "compound" for the next seven days.

Barb and Dorothy from Remax picked us up the next day. For the next 3 days, they took us to about 6 fincas (farms). It was their first time dealing with clients who want massive amounts of land, so it was an adventure for everyone. Our criteria was this: a finca with mountains, a flatland portion, a body of water runing through it, excellent soil for farming, and ocean view...basically what everyone wants.

One of the fincas we looked at belonged to a German family. The guy's name is Arnold, but he insisted on us calling him Pablo (?). We had to go up into the mountains with three 4x4 trackers. After crossing rivers and muddy terraine, one of the trackers had a flat tire, the other one's radiator blew, so we hiked rest of the way. A lot of the fincas don't have access to main roads, so this was the only way to get there. Pablo and his family have been living there for over 20 years. Sitting on the chairs he made with the mahogany wood on his property, he went into a lecture about living one with the universe, returning to his roots, living off the land, and his version of eco-tourism. We hiked up a mountain to see the view of the ocean. There were fireant hills everywhere, so on the way up, I was bitten. Cecil and I didn't know whether to brush away the ants as they were biting me, as Pablo was big on not harming anything on his property. So, I was bitten the whole way up. As we crossed a river, he said proudly, "I raised my children on this water, please try some!". I didn't know how to refuse that, on the grounds of not insulting his parenting skills.

There were so many others, but I don't have time to recall all 6 farms. Check them out on my blog when I finish that.

After 3 days of trekking up and down mountains, we decided that it would be fun to rent a car and go to Santiago, the second largest city in the Dominican Republic. Driving was an experience, as there are no traffic laws. 8 years ago, no one really had cars there, so they drive like manics, coming at you from all directions. Motorcycles are like bicycles in Asia, everywhere. We took the scenic route, going through the Jamao mountains. The view was breathtaking, and there were little fruit stands along the way. We stopped to pick up some baked yams and a watermelon on the mountain. Let me tell you that the drive to Santiago was great, but getting back was a problem. We were lost in the slums of Santiago, one wrong turn, we ended up at this garbage dump surrounded by stick homes. I am the only one out of the four of us who can speak some Spanish, so with my broken Spanish and and a lot of finger pointing, and 3 hours later, we got out of the slums and headed back to Puerto Plata. People were extremely friendly, and they all gave us looks of pity...

The next day, I called the seller of the 610 acre finca we planned on buying. She was on an airplane out of the country, returning to the United States, so she cordinated her uncle to show us the farm. He is 82 years old and rode a 4 hour long bus from Santo Domingo just to meet us. On the phone, he murmured something in Spanish about mules, and I thought I heard wrong.

This was the plan, go to Jamao Dal Norte, find the Jamao River Bridge, and wait for Cesar Belarus, who is the 82 year-old uncle. He will then take us to the farm. The Jamao River Bridge was easy to find, except we were the major attraction of the region. As we loitered around, the locals started gathering, all thinking whether we needed any help.

Cesar arrived an hour late, but he got down to business right away by getting 6 mules ready. So, Cesar, the four of us, his machete wielding assistant, and 2 local kids were on our way. It's a beautiful farm, with turqoise blue rivers running through it. He led us up and down the mountains, across the rivers, and some swimming holes. The most interesting thing was riding a disobdient mule down the mountain close to barb wires that fenced the property. Going downhill was really really really frightening...not sure how to explain it. Mom wasn't paying much attention to the views, instead, she had her eyes set on the sweet lemons. One of the kids climbed the tree to get sweet lemons for everyone, and she was the happiest about that.

The last two days, we saw more farms, one in Rio San Juan that really peaked our interest. The ad said 180 acres, but when we got there, Danilo, the caretaker of the farm, said it's actually 1000 acres for the same price. Sometimes, it's funny dealing with Dominican sellers, as they tend to exagerate and trick buyers, especially when people show interest. I asked him whether he can swear on his children's life that it's 1000 acres for the same price, and he responded by saying he swears on his mother's life. Male dominicans hold their mothers pretty high, so that was enough to believe him.

I don't have much to say about the resort we stayed at. We wouldn't have stayed if we went on our own. The whole point of an all-inclusive resort is to keep you there. If I wanted to see people stuff their faces with food, drink themselves silly, and then sun tan around the pool, I could do it here. The Dominican Republic is famous for all-inclusive deals, on the way back home, a British airbus pulled into the airport, and every one on board was here for an all-inclusive holiday. Airbuses are huge. The sad thing is it's the economy in small towns is taking a beating, because tourists don't get out of the resorts. We also looked at a 150 room hotel in the Sosua/Cabarete area, and it was completely dilapidated. The area's economy went downhill after Puerto Plata started the all-inclusive trend. Small boutique hotels and bed and breakfasts are going out of business fast...

The last day, we went to the Isabel de Torres Botanical Gardens. You take the cable car to get up to an altitute of 800 meters. You can get a manificent view of the entire Puerto Plata area. The garden was unimpressive, one of the guides at the garden was pointing at a tree telling tourists that it's mahogany. I've seen millions of mahogany trees on the farms we went to, and this was not mahogany, it was pine, and the pine needles were all over the ground. He wasn't so thrilled with me for pointing that out. Then he proceeded to say that the French occupied Haiti and left the country as the 4th poorest country in the world. I am all for blaming the French for things, but that just wasn't the case. The French had a lot to do with it, but in the end, it goes back to Haitians massively cutting down all Mahogany trees and top soil erosion. All in all, he wasn't too impressed with me for the whole day.

There is a lot of anti-Haitian propaganda in Dominican educational books, but the 4 million Haitians (estimation) in the country are the hardest working. They often speak several languages, always educating themselves to learn more, work the sugar crane fields for 2 dollars US a day, and send money back home when they can. They are thoroughly hated by the Dominicans because of the their rough past. Duarte, the revoluntionary figure who fought back the Haitians, is very much celebrated there. Statues of him are everywhere in Santiago, and the main highway is called Autopista Duarte...

A lot of the expatriates there fund Haitian children to go to school. The education is free, but it costs 1500 pesos ( 1:25.5 conversion rate) to buy the uniform, books, and backpacks (which is mandatory).

I would recommend the Dominican Republic, but don't stay with the all-inclusive resorts. In the Puerto Plata area, stay at Sosua, Cabarete, Rio San Juan, Jamao or Playa Grande, and give back to the local economy a little bit. Buy from local vendors, it goes a long way. At the least, rent a car, drive around, get lost, and trust that people are friendly and genuine enough to help you with no conditions.