I took a million pictures, running around like a tourist fool for the first time since I got here. I have a public link to the Facebook album here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150286566621373.331592.731621372&l=4c8d415b83&type=1
We took a walking tour with a few different guides, all who spoke Spanish at my insistence. I didn't understand our main tour guide completely, but I got about 2/3 of what he said. Our guide for the Catedral de Santa María de la Encarnación was easier to understand and I learned a ton of cool stuff about the joint. It was the first cathedral built in the Americas. Even to a non-Catholic, that place is stunning.
I didn't catch everything that was taught to me. Instead of breaking my ass to figure out the who/what/where/when/why of nearly 200 photos, I brought the pictures up to my history prof at UNIBE. He loved my idea of sharing the pics in class and discussing the sites. I figured if anyone knew what was going on, he would. It's a future class project. That's turning a frown in the form of a still crippling language barrier upside down.
I shouldn't say that my inability to communicate freely in Spanish is crippling. On the contrary. I feel like I understand more and more each day. I'm to the point now where I can listen to most people speak and I can hear the words they say. I don't know what each word means, but it's not just a jumble of impossibly fast noise anymore. I suppose I'm in the word salad stage.
As for my speaking, it's getting there. Over the weekend I went to the coast with my roommate, where we drank beer, ate fine food, and I took pictures of the Caribbean Sea like a noob. Those pictures are here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150284665336373.331083.731621372&l=07420e3668&type=1
On our walk home we stopped by the ice cream shop near our place and met a cute boy working there. Quite honestly I'm surprised that I haven't met that many cute boys here. This boy working at the ice cream shop took an interest in me because I swim. He told me he swims, too. I told him that Indhira does doggy paddle (by mimicking the dog paddle motion with my hands) and he asked "¿perrito?" Then when I asked him for some vanilla ice cream he told me to get something better, to which I said "no es aburrido" (it's not boring).
I guess I'm getting good enough with Spanish if I can tease my roommate and defend my ice cream choices.
Anyway the ice cream here is amazing and puts everything in the US to shame. SHAME. I had tres leches ice cream from Helados Bon. Bon also offers hand packed pints with three flavor options; I got chocolate brownie, tres leches, and vanilla. Jesus Joseph and Mary. Best ice cream ever.
As much fun as I had over the weekend and on Monday I can't think of anything except my visit to Sr. Epifiano Guerrero, the most respected and successful baseball scout in the Dominican Republic. I was whisked away on the freeway to his training complex to the north of the city to get an introduction to what I'm really doing in this country.
After only a few hours with Epy, I was extremely humbled by his body of work, as well as his enthusiasm and interest in me. He's like the cool Dominican abuelo I never had. He pulled out all kinds of old articles and pictures to show me and was bubbling with excitement the whole time.
It wouldn't do justice to the magnitude of this connection to write about one afternoon with Epy. I'm going back to his home, also on the complex grounds, tomorrow to learn more and celebrate his father's birthday. El padre is 100 years old. I don't know how these Dominicans do it. Must be all the Helados Bon.
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