LOCAL TRANSPORTATION.... WHAT A RIOT!

What an amazing day this was!!

Ever have one of those days that started rather uneventful and then turns into one that you wouldn’t trade for anything? Well I had one on the 17th of August and I am going to share it with you.
It didn’t start off as a “Dark and stormy night” because I was at the bus station in Los Charamicos, 10 minutes from home, at 6 bells in the morning ready to meet a bright and sunny day. My friend Leonel Nunez was going to join me to go to Santo Domingo to purchase a cargo trailer for Reality Ministries. Just a simple day trip to the “Big City”, “El Capital” and the “Big whatever!” We got on the bus and drifted off on the travel as planned.

If you have ever traveled on “Caribe Tour” buses, you know that you need to bring extra clothes and possibly a blanket. It's just a tad chilly. You don’t even need ice for your water because the inside temps of the bus will keep it one degree above freezing. You need a cooler to keep things from freezing. How cool is that!

We went uneventfully into Santo Domingo and just as we were entering the city, got off the bus at some unmarked corner in order to find a cab to find the trailer vender, our primary reason for coming. Finding a cab, an honest fella he claimed to be, and he took us to our destination and unbeknown to us, only charged us double the going fare. Honest fella that he was. He gave us his phone number and assured us that he was at our “beck and call” for all our traveling needs. How do we ever find such wonderful guys?

Into the trailer vender we went and were treated as the prized customers we thought we deserved. Here too the waiting room was kept just above freezing so I felt great and Leonel pulled his wool hat out that he wore the whole time on the bus, right down to below his knees. Remember the cartoon some years ago called “Fat Albert” and Albert’s friend had a wool hat that had eye holes cut out of it so he could see? Well I was looking for a pair of scissors for Leonel. Putting down the deposit on the trailer we needed, still to be built, we headed back out to start our uneventful journey home.

PART 2

Completing out mission for what we came to do, we asked the guard at the front gate where we could catch the Caribe bus back to Los Charamicos. He told us we should cross the 4 lanes of busy highway traffic to the other side and hail down a cab or a Guagua (a mini van that holds twice the normal amount of people with the normal amount of seats) to take us back into the city to find the bus station. He really didn’t know so he did us the favour by not giving us any directions.

We hailed a passing pint size cab that would have not even received an entry into a scrap metal yard. The only window that worked belonged to the driver and the rest were your palm manual push ups and then wedged with a screwdriver so they stayed up and didn’t fall back down. No inside cosmetic materials except for the seats and even those couldn’t be salvaged. The front window looked like a spider’s web but we didn’t care because at least one of the wipers worked and it wasn’t raining; for now.

Leonel and I piled into the back seat with a rather thin small woman, thank goodness she was half my size, and so with 3 in the back and 3 in the front, off we went off to the capital. It was then we realized how we had been fleeced by our “honest fella” friend as we passed our pick up and departure points realizing we paid double of what we should have. We laughed that off because we were still in shock from the condition of our cab. The driver was a very friendly chap and between displaying his middle finger to those who constantly cut us off and honking his horn to hail other possible cab clients, we moved along rather well. That was until the heavens opened on us.

PART 3
And open they did! We all had to suddenly lift and push our custom palm windows up so we didn’t get soaked. With the inside suddenly not having any outside air flow and the humidity level gaining altitude like the space shuttle, I begged my lady friend beside me if we could open her window ever so slightly. With our spider web front windshield holding a visibility of about 10 feet forward towards our destination; it really seemed to me as the best option.

Little did I realize, the rain was coming from her side and as we cracked her window open only a predetermined shade, it dropped about 5 inches. My 90 pound friend was instantly saturated and getting more drenched by the second, better yet, she was on her way to an important doctor’s appointment for some scans. Her sudden drenching probably saved her a few pesos because she was pretty much see-through from the rain by the time we got the window back up.
Thankfully like most rain showers here in the Dominican Republic, they stop as fast as they start. The rains stopped just in time for our cab driver to drop us off at the Caribe bus terminal so we could catch the bus back home. Sadly, he dropped us off at a wrong terminal. It was for another company and they weren’t even going our way! So like the silly boys we are sometimes, we asked for directions. We were told the Caribe bus terminal was “just” down the highway so we started walking.

Realizing it was going to rain any second, we grabbed a Guagua and headed down the highway. The rain soon started and with the side sliding door wedged open for maximum passenger capacity, everyone one in the van was getting well sprayed from the front tires. With my back to the passenger seat and the sliding side door broken open, I started making funny faces to a little boy who was sitting directly in front of me, you know, face to face. He started it and I couldn’t help but entertain him with some of my most bizarre and outrageous faces. It was only after a few moments of my finest poses that I noticed everyone looking at me like I was some sort of insane asylum escapee. Yes, the little boy had an audience of one, me, and I had an audience of about 20. Thankfully we reached our destination soon afterwards. I haven’t rode in a Guagua for years and I hope it’s that long again. ...to be continued.....

PART 4

Getting out in front of our Caribe Tours bus terminal, it wasn’t soon enough. The 2 of us strolled up to the window with pesos in hand to secure our seats. As we were proudly ready to purchase and claim our seats, we were sadly informed that this Caribe Tours bus terminal only carried and distributed parcels and letters. Ouch big time and scorched again. No seats and no Caribe bus. You may think that we may have some fetish for Caribe Tours buses but they really are the cleanest, fastest and most reliable on the country besides the Metro Bus lines. The Metro terminal is further from our home.

However, in front of this terminal stand about a dozen other buses. These are about 1/3 of the size of Caribe bus but pack about the same amount of people. With no other options, in we go. Our seat designed for 4 now seats 5 and I am no fly weight. I lean very forward for the next 2 hours, the time from our stop just outside Santo Domingo until Santiago, while Leonel sits like a postage stamp against the window. This may seem very strange but both of us are laughing hysterically most of the trip. Every time we looked at each other we swore this would be the last time we traveled like this and we found it funny that we were the only two who found this type of travel so unbelievably uncomfortable. People were ordered around by the bus porter like they were chess pieces. “You get out of your chair and move over to that seat” were common sounds. Two skinny people in one seat to make room so a “hubba-bubba” person could squeeze over there. Wither you liked it or not or maybe even agreed with it, they got up and did as they were told. No arguing or back talking, you did as you were ordered.

PART 5

When we got to Santiago we switched buses, not to a larger one, but to one with less people. Now we were on our way to Puerto Plata, an hour away and our second last stop until home. As the bus rambled along, dodging pot holes and motorcycles, I was amazed at how everyone including the bus driver handled everything. Not that the ride in this beauty of a bus that lacked real suspension was phenomenal but everyone sort of went with the flow. What seamed sort of surreal was in the fact that no one “blew a gasket” every time something didn’t go according to plan. The trip actually seemed rather uneventful and kind of boring. A good friend of ours once said “Boring is good.” and so it seemed to fit the phrase quite well.

In Puerto Plata we exited our bus and made our way down the street to another taxi. Our final leg home and it wasn’t coming fast enough. We squeezed into the back seat of another taxi and as rough as this one was, it was a Cadillac compared to one 5 hours earlier. Yes we bottomed out on every bump and pot hole but these windows actually went up with an inside handle and the doors opened from the inside. How cool is that! Forty minutes later and 40 pesos lighter, we were back were we started 12 hours earlier.

You see, we were gone 12 hours for a ½ hour meeting but we gained almost a whole world of experiences. For almost 11 ½ hours we sat and shared the lives of people from both sides of the economics in the Dominican Republic. Caribe Tours buses are truly luxury buses that most of the Dominican people could only dream of riding in. We take it for granted and sometimes see it as a deserved right to ride in these vehicles of transportation. How sad! Our ride home showed us what it is like for many people and even then, we weren’t subjected to the worst form of travel. There are still even rougher and more brutal means of transportation and thankfully we weren’t subjected to those this time. As much as we laughed at the different vehicles we traveled in, this truly is reality for almost all of the people.

THE FINAL CHAPTER

May God forgive me if and when I look differently upon those who are not blessed as I am? These past blog entries were as much fun for me to write as I hope they were for you to read.

However, in the end, this has truly been one of the blessed lessons learned for myself and one I hope that I may never forget. Please remember, the next time you see a person who has not received the blessings you and I have; do 2 things. Thank God for what you have and please help those who haven’t experienced these same blessings. As I write this, tears form in my eyes because this has truly been one of the best days of my life!
God Bless!!

FRIDAY THE 13TH

Today, people watchers, bikers and motorcycle enthusiasts descended on Port Dover, Ontario for the 50th Friday the 13th festival. It was expected that 150,000 people would come to look at the approximate 20,000 bikes on display by their owners. The festival has grown tremendously since it began as an impromptu gathering of 25 friends in 1981. Years of living just off of Hwy #6, the major route to Dover, our family experienced many times the roar of the bikes all day long as they proceeded and returned to the festival. Although the Dominican Republic cannot rival these numbers, motto conchos are in abundant supply everywhere waiting for their next fare. This is the transportation of choice for most people who cannot afford to own their own vehicle. Every day we hear the roar of the bikes and see their sometimes crazy antics weaving though the traffic or the occasional wheelie by a young man with his friends on the back. When the street light turns green look out….it seems that the race is on with every single bike trying to be the first to pass through the intersection. However I must admire these talented men as they drive with up to 4 or 5 passengers, the many women who sit side saddle without holding on to the driver, or the 50 & 100 lb. propane tanks and washing machines that you see them transport. The most bizarre things I have seen were a man sitting on a 4x8 sheet of plywood and dragging it behind on the road, a passenger was holding a door sideways or the lady riding side saddle holding a slab birthday cake from the bakery.
So when I think of these amazing things….I can honestly say that the people who show off their bikes in Port Dover have nothing on these fine people here in the Dominican Republic. .

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO MOURN….

Last Saturday evening we were saddened to receive the news that Senor Dipy Metilus, age 54 passed away after a brief illness in his home in villa Esperanza. Many of our teams who have worked in villa Esperanza are familiar with this kind, gentle man who was the local tailor and an upstanding member of the church, in a community where less than 10% of the people believe in God. His wife passed away a few years earlier and his two girls Dilcia and Janeli are now orphans. This was our first experience in actually participating in a Haitian burial service which usually takes place within 24 hours of death. Since Giuseppe was away on holidays, we offered to use our pickup truck to transport the casket and many mourners to the graveside. There were so many people packed into the back of the truck that the tires were almost flat. The procession proceeded ever so slowly; our truck, two gua gua’s with at least 30 people in each, 2 cars, and numerous motorcycles proceeded slowly to the cemetery in Montellano so the people walking could keep pace also on this approximately 5 km trip. The keening and wailing of some of the mourners grew especially loud when the graveside service was concluded, the casket lowered into the ground and with each man taking a shovelful of dirt to fill the grave. Upon our arrival back to the truck we discovered that it was filled to the brim with mourners waiting for a bola (a free ride) back up to the village. Dilcia had just finished her first year of university in Santo Domingo and must now decide if she can continue to study there while taking care of her younger sister. Please pray for these young ladies in their time of sorrow.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4