On Tuesday night, Robin, Grace, Barrett, Drew, Brad and I took a bus to Santiago. We arrived at the Hub, where we stayed the past four nights. The Hub is a Christian hostel that generally houses Peace Corps volunteers and is currently being run by Ben White, who is a friend of Makarios. This place definitely has a hippie feel to it, with quotes painted all over the walls, but it a nice, comfortable house with a great library. Not long after we got there, Constance and Holly brought in MK, Barrett's girlfriend who surprised him by coming here. He started yelling; it was a great surprise that we all got to be in on!
Wednesday morning we headed out on a different bus to Llano de Perez to 27 Charcos--that means 27 Waterfalls. What happens is two guides take you out into the mountains and you climb through streams and rivers, up ledges and dirt and rocks and waterfalls, and then head back and jump off of or slide down all 27 waterfalls. This is the most amazing thing I think I have done so far in my life I think. It's so frustrating to write about; no words can describe how much fun we had and how much beauty we saw. It took us close to five hours to get through the whole thing and our guides were great--they would literally pull us up if we had trouble climbing, and one of the guides even gave Holly a piggyback ride for half the walk back just because her shoes were too slippery. Let me interject right here and say thanks to Jordan and Mom for talking me into buying a pair of Chacos! I didn't fall once even though I climbed up tons of steep and slippery rocks. We took a cheap disposable camera with us, and I hope the pictures do it justice. We swam through caves and got to witness firsthand God's amazing creation!
Parents, you may not like this as much, but I definitely had a close call on one of the jumps. We all wore helmets and life vests, and since I love thrills and felt pretty confident jumping off of these ledges into the water, I went first often. Well, one of the first waterfalls was one that you couldn't just step off of, because the rocks jutted out further than the ledge below. I don't know what happened, but I guess I needed to watch somebody do it first because I jumped out WAY too close to the rocks. Everyone thought that I was going to clip my ankle on my way down! Don't worry, the only thing that happened is that I face-planted a little when I hit the water, so now I have a cut under my lip. Aside from a few bruises and being a little sore the next day, I would do that whole thing again in a split second. It was breathtaking!
Thursday was a big tourist day for us. Brad, Drew, Barrett, MK and I took a bus out to Santo Domingo, the capital of the DR. When I say that we took a bus out there, I don't mean all together. Sure, we thought we were all getting on the same bus, and we all had tickets for the same bus, but Barrett ran to buy some fruit just minutes before the bus arrived and Drew and MK went to look for him as Brad and I got on the bus, and then I watched as the bus pulled away with my friends still on the curb! Santo Domingo is a two hour trip and the next bus would not be arriving for another hour, and we were running late in the first place (we weren't getting to the city until after 1 -- we aren't morning people!), so things were looking pretty interesting. It turns out that another bus ended up getting to the station in Santiago just ten minutes after the one Brad and I were on left, so the stragglers hopped that one and we met up in Santo Domingo. Good thing, since none of us have cell phones!
We took a taxi into the colonial part of Santo Domingo, on the way passing the capitol building (it's pink!). I didn't realize how much American history lies here in the DR. We saw the first church of the Americas, what is known as the first street of the Americas (called "Calle de las Damas," or "Street of the Women"), the Alcazar de Colon (Christopher Columbus's Fortress), and other various sites dedicated to Dominican history. I don't think I was prepared for all the cool things I got to see. It ended up being a great day, complete with a couple of terrible American movies on our charter bus back!
Friday has to be one of the wildest days of my life! Mondays and Fridays are market days at the Haitian border, so basically everyone can make a mad dash across during the day. All I had was a paper copy of my passport, but we were told that wouldn't be an issue as long as we just tried to blend in walking across (Yeah right. Blend in? A bunch of gringos crossing into Haiti?) We left in the morning for Dajabon, a Dominican border town. The feel there is instantly different, already overwhelming. People are lining the streets selling goods, with blue tarps hung across the walkways to provide some shade. Walking was tight; people pushing wheelbarrows will run into your heels yelling "Permiso!" to get through. It reminded me of my time in Morocco; not asthetically but in the smells and the heat--the smell of the spices made me remember how sick I felt during my trip there last year!
We made sure to get in pairs and then went to cross the border. I went across first, with Drew following behind and Barrett and MK behind him. You cross over a long bridge lined with armed UN officers who seemed like they could not care less what you were doing. We set foot in Haiti and thought we were free until a Haitian man ran up to us and made us turn around. The odd thing was that he was simply wearing a straw hat and a University of Miami t-shirt and he wasn't armed. We think it's because we were white and they wanted to try to make us pay, or that they were telling us it was unsafe. Meanwhile, the other four people from our group got through without a hitch.
Back in Dajabon we ended up running into two girls who stayed with us at the Hub who are volunteering with the Peace Corps. Molly speaks great Creole and said she would sweet talk the man and get us across. Unfortunately, he insisted that those of us with passports (or paper copies of passports) go stamp our passports on the DR side and then come back across. Drew, Molly, and Tildon waited with him, while MK, Barrett, and I walked over. I spoke with one of the guards who said it was no problem, he'd even stamp my copy, for $25 a person. No, not pesos, like we thought at first, but dollars. So I said no way and we headed back to Haiti. Well, the Miami man had a change of heart because he had let the other three in, so a bunch of Haitians guided us over to them where we stood around for a while and talked. It was so funny; none of them meant us harm, they were just completely curious about us. Honestly, there was not even a single Dominican across the border, much less any Americans. It is absolutely shocking to see the change in the landscape just crossing over the line between the DR and Haiti. It is desolate there, stricken with poverty. A few of us speculated that this was a glimpse of how the rural areas in Africa look.
Crossing back over, we cross a river that is now called the "Massacre River," because during Trujillo's reign, he demanded that all Haitians trying to cross over into the DR be killed, and with machetes, not guns. Thousands died in that river; it was haunting to see it. I felt a burden going back into the DR, as it is absolutely rich compared to Haiti. I can't even imagine being back in the US after seeing it. Taking the bus back, we were stopped at least five or six times by armed guards who would get on the bus and check to make sure there were no Haitians on board.
So I am back, safe and resting in Puerto Plata. I am so thankful that I got to see all that I saw this week!
With some guards in Santo Domingo
The First Church of the New World, Santo Domingo
Crossing into Haiti from the DR
Drew, Rebecca, Barrett, MK, and our crazy friend in Haiti! My favorite photo.
The "Massacre River" separating the Dominican Republic and Haiti
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