Just today I was looking at a rooster’s feet and thinking how obscenely large and disfigured they were; so obviously a chicken foot has to end up on my dinner plate. Unfortunately, I was sucking its rubbery toes before I realized I was not holding a regular drumstick. I soon found out my doña had given it to me as a treat; she later proceeded to bite the shit out of it. Welcome to El Seibo - a podunk town by American standards, but the capital of a province here, and my new home for the next four weeks. Instead [View Full Entry]

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A theatre history teacher in Miami begins all of her classes by saying, “Death is all around us.” And I suppose it always is. But when we inhabit the modern world, its inherent order, its many rules that codify our behavior, that lead a city to flow like a machine because we are programmed into it, implicitly stopping at every red light and seeking the help of cops and judges instead of relatives with guns (for the most part anyways) - all these restrictions and limitations bred into our freedom of choice over action prevent an array of deaths that [View Full Entry]

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Not ten minutes outside of Santo Domingo and you’re already catching glimpses of the infamous beauty of this country. Mountains in the distance and lush green hills dotted with palm trees in the fore ground. All of it increasing in diversity and complexity until you reach the Cibao Valley - banana trees lining the road and rice fields seemingly extending to the mountains. Then as you turn toward the northwest, the landscape grows rockier, dustier, and despite the climb in altitude, hotter. Palm trees give way to pine trees, and town after town covered in orange dust: the border approach [View Full Entry]

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You know your priorities have changed when you look into a toilet bowl that hasn’t been flushed - because water has yet to return to fill the cistern - and think, “That’s a nice turd.” Though my digestive situation has improved a bit, I’m still a bit jealous of all ye of solid fecal matter. No worries though; I’m not sick, it’s just that the dirty chinos who make the best fried chicken on the planet - El Pica Pollo - never change their oil, which is always the color and viscosity of motor oil. And this is obviously why that [View Full Entry]

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Buenos chicos, llege al Caribe. And the colors here really let you know exactly where you are. I’ve found myself on just staring at a sky that carries a rich and heavy blue, almost fluorescent; and the color of the sea is tinged with the same radiance. However, should you step out of the shade at all, sentiments of aesthetic appreciation are quickly tempered by the burning light of the star that gives the island its color and beauty - not to mention the enormous amount of trash that decorates most of the streets. Yesterday, I went for a walk along [View Full Entry]

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Hello all, Well, after many months of speculation, I've finally made it to my point and date of departure. Why the United Stated governement has decided to fly us from DC to the DR - instead of via Miami - is anybody's guess. We're told it's more cost-effecient - but obviously it has something to do with donkeys and chickens. Apparantly, the cuban-centrism of Miami freaks them out. I have just returned from the last Western/modern bar I will see for a long time. True, it's nothing like New York; but even hearing Joan Jett scream "I love rock 'n roll" [View Full Entry]

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