Family Day 2

Frank drove us into Puerto Plata as we had a stack of postcards we wanted to drop in a mailbox. The post office was closed. That’s when we learned there is no such thing as a mailbox in the Dominican Republic. It’s your post office or nuthin’. We asked later whether the marina could mail them for us. Nope, but they were happy to arrange to have them sent by courier, at $30US per card. Folks, you’ll have to wait till we can mail them in Puerto Rico.

Then we headed up towards the mountains that stand behind Puerto Plata. Carla and WW shared a fascination with real estate, so there was a lot of house pricing that went on. When you buy property in the DR, you pay a percentage tax on the purchase price. If the property (including house) is worth less than 5 million RD, you pay no annual property tax. Carla is building a second storey on her house, so the value will rise to over that limit and she’ll have to pay tax. However, she intends to rent the second floor (something many Dominicans do) and that will more than cover her associated expenses. Dominicans build a house and leave steel construction rods sticking out of the roof in the happy expectation they will, one day, be able to afford that second floor.

Front porch

The house was lovely and cool, and very minimalist. There was the requisite front porch area with the requisite four rocking chairs. Poochie, their typical Dominican perra -- complete with lengthy dugs from three litters, all of which had died – greeted us. Carla said dogs and cats are owned, they just like to wander about. Someone, somewhere, takes a modicum of responsibility for them. This family was besotted with their lovely bitch, who lives exclusively on table scraps, including large numbers of chicken bones.

Inside the house is a living room, family room with television and many books, two small bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a master bedroom. The kitchen has a cooking area separated from a washing area.

Dining room from the outdoor walkway

The dining room has sliding doors on two sides, one set leading to a walkway beside the house and parking area, the other to the small back garden complete with mango tree, avocado tree, lime tree, orange tree, Surinam cherry tree, banana tree, papaya tree, tomato plants, and a chicken who provides the family with eggs and has long discussions with Carla.

Despite our already having eaten, Carla insisted we have a typical Dominican lunch with them. Her new cook/maid failed to make a salad, to Carla’s horror and shame.

Shucking Luperon oysters

The son (alas, I never got the boys’ names, except the youngest who was called ChiChi) who had gathered the oysters, opened them with a stone in the back yard. WW and I were graced with one each. They were very sweet and delicious. Carla served us fried chicken (I was terrified I’d be offered one of the feet as a special treat; fortunately, Frank fell on them with gusto), rice, and red beans. These are the staples. Everyone eats them all the time.

Frank and Carla and the fabulous feast.
(apologies for the focus issue)

After lunch, Carla showed me, with enormous pride, her various degrees and photos from her graduations. The boys sprawled in the family room with the television blaring. WW and Frank rocked on the front porch. Carla and I joined them there where she served us “the joy of my day”, fresh, strong, black Dominican coffee.

Dominican coffee is, indeed, a joy. Its flavour is superb. The natives drink it in small cups with at least one teaspoonful of sugar. Carla asked how much sugar we took. WW took one and I took one (though I normally don’t sweeten my coffee, but I had read it would be rude to decline). We asked Carla how much she took. “Five,” she said. We were stunned. “Will it fit?” I asked. Carla laughed and pointedly took one and a half. Milk or cream weren’t even offered. It was fabulous.

Everyone piled back into the van for the ride to Ocean World. Actually, one son was left behind, but he called on the cellphone and we swung back to get him after a tour of the local mansions, some worth more than 20 million RD.

At Ocean World, the kids shook hands and said “Nice to meet you” – possibly one of three English phrases they know. Frank thanked God and us for the work we’d given him. He had told us the all-inclusive resorts are killing him because tourists don’t need taxis anymore. Carla and I hugged, I gave her a good Montreal two-cheek mwah-mwah, and we parted vowing to be in touch when and if we return, having exchanged cards.

Being taken into a Dominican family for a day was an exceedingly special experience. Both WW and I still smile whenever one of us brings it up. I very much hope I have a chance to renew the acquaintance in the future.