Dominican Thoughts

We've just returned from a week in La Republica Dominica, a.k.a. the Dominican Republic, at a Punta Cana resort known as Natura Park.  It was our first time in the D.R., and it was lovely.  (How bad could it be, right?)

Natura Park walkway

It was a jungle down there, literally.  Even the grounds of the resort were lush with flora and fauna.  There were fish and turtles and even a snake, but the most conspicuous fauna were birds.  The place was thick with ducks, geese, peacocks, flamingos, frigate birds, egrets, pelicans, and more.  My favorites were these two, both new to me.  At left is the black-crested night heron, and the one with the red schnozz and big toes is the moorhen. 

Night Heron

Common Moorhen, or gallinule

La piscina

La playa

Cancun has been our frequent tropical destination.  Over the decades, the tourism industry there has made an obvious decision to cater to Americans.  New hotels try to outdo each other, and virtually everyone speaks English.  For a gringo like me, it's really easy to be in Cancun.  It's essentially Las Vegas East or Miami Beach South.

The Dominican is not like that.  Back in the good old Conquistador days, the D.R. was a Spanish colony and there is a definite European feel to the tourista business.  Spanish still rules the day.  Very few of the resort staff spoke English.  Fellow vacationers came from Spain, of course, and Germany, Turkey, Holland, Russia, France and who knows where.  We were part of a smattering of Yanks, Brits and Aussies -- a distinct minority for English-speakers.

They say travel can be broadening, and I'd have to agree.  Despite the language barrier, we got by just fine.  The lovely Mrs. Gammons can speak some pidgin Spanish left over from high school, and I can point, pantomime, and say "cerveza."  (I now know that Presidente is the only cerveza in the D.R., and it's pretty good.)  One basic way or another, we managed to communicate with staff and guests.  No problemo!

Another aspect of travel-broadening is exposure to European-style beachwear.  And I do mean exposure!  All vacationing Euros are evidently required by law to wear small bikinis and banana-hammock Speedos, regardless of age or body type.  (Sorry, no photos.  Use your imagination.)  Sometimes it's nice, but often not so much.  Yet one must admit that, all things considered, the European attitude toward the human body -- "Boom!  Here I am, sucker.  Deal with it." -- is probably healthier than our typically uptight, Puritanical, American mindset.  Healthy or not, I am in the post-Speedo stage of my life.
 

Mamajuana.
Arriba!

A well-known Dominican bebida is known as "mamajuana," a concoction of rum, red wine, honey, and a variety of herbs and spices resting prominently in the bottom of the bottle.  The locals ascribe all sorts of of medicinal benefits to mamajuana -- it'll cure whatever ails you -- and they especially extol its supposed aphrodisiac properties.  If you order a mamajuana, the barkeepers hoot and holler and make humping gestures.  When I ordered one, the lovely Mrs. Gammons suggested I could use the entire bottle.  The bartender just about fell down laughing.  Thanks, dear.  In any event, it is a pretty tasty little drink.  I'm certain it has no real medical benefits, but if you drink enough of it, for awhile you will feel better and you just won't care.

My last observation is that this trip really made me think about being the dreaded cliche, the "ugly American."  Among the hundreds of people at Natura Park, Punta Cana, D.R., I was just about the only one who wasn't bilingual or multi-lingual.  The staff spoke other languages, just not much English.  There was one guy behind the front desk whose sole function was to speak to the Russians.  We met a nice French woman who could speak anything except English, and I'm the stereotypical American who can speak nothing but.  Jeez!

The Dominican was great!  We'd go back.  And I'd like a Spanish phrase-book for Christmas, please.