Travelogue/Sobre viajes

I took some trips over the last several weeks and I realized I did a great disservice to my blog by not posting pictures or writing about my adventures.

I'll condense them for you by posting links to my photo albums and providing brief descriptions of my travels.

In early October I went to the beach at Boca Chica with my roommate and her friends. Boca Chica is east of Santo Domingo. There aren't any suitable beaches in Santo Domingo, so you have to go east for the best ones.

I took the pictures from this set at different intervals of the day, from afternoon to sunset. I was told that this beach was "ghetto" compared to the resort beaches in the DR. I was still in love with the sky, the sea, and the sand. Seriously this water was WARM and clear and gorgeous.

The rest of the photos are here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150314886931373.337181.731621372&type=1&l=eb2c2fdb6d

The next trip I went on was an excursion with my history class to the ruins of a colonial sugar plantation and the Columbus Lighthouse.

The ruins of Engombe was a fun trip to a natural protected area not too far from Santo Domingo. The ruins included the sugar mill, the main house, the slave quarters, and the chapel.

The rest of this first set is here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150331387681373.340547.731621372&type=1&l=cdb6ad361a


Then we went to the Columbus Lighthouse, a massive museum near the Colonial Zone that celebrates Christopher Columbus' voyage to the Americas and the history, culture, and contributions of each country in the Americas. There's a ton of stuff to see there, so I'll let you read the captions on each photo.

The rest of the photos from that set are here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150331471121373.340556.731621372&type=1&l=cabf035ae8

Towards the end of October I went on a boat trip to Rio Chavon and Isla Saona. Saona is an island off the southeastern coast of the DR and is a frequent stop for tourists. It is the pristine and gorgeous tropical paradise that comes to mind when thinking of the Caribbean. We also voyaged on the river and saw cool and wild stuff. It was the best parts of the DR, the untamed and natural beauty of the country.

Lots of photos are in this set: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150334868421373.341244.731621372&type=1&l=d958263b95

The next trip was a voyage to the north, to the second largest city in the country: Santiago. First we visited the Hermanas Mirabal Museum. I mentioned the sisters before here.

I met Dede Mirabal! She's the only surviving sister and she still lives in the house where the sisters lived. She's the coolest woman ever. I'm on the far left, in case you care.

We also went to Centro Leon, which unfortunately didn't allow cameras, and we went to my internship coordinator's family home in Santiago.

I met my internship coordinator's dad, who is the coolest dad ever. He grabbed a machete and led us to his plot of platano trees, where he cut off a branch of platanos for us and pulled up a yuca plant like it was nothing.

The rest of the pictures are here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150340230816373.342310.731621372&type=1&l=a2e6edaa80

Last week we went to the east again, this time to La Romana and San Pedro de Macoris. Unfortunately the trip was kind of a flop. The cave we visited with cool Taino paintings didn't allow cameras. And we didn't get into Altos de Chavon because the security guard or whatever wouldn't let our car through the gate.

So our tour guide took us to San Pedro de Macoris and we saw some of the city's oldest sights. Like the first firehouse in the country.

And the symbols of the town in the middle of the city: the railroad, the sugar plantation workers, baseball players, and crabs.

And a quick trip to Baseball City, where several MLB teams have their Dominican academies.

All this and more, here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150354896646373.345487.731621372&type=1&l=9e7301c2d5

My most recent trip, yesterday in San Francisco de Macoris, was to a cacao plantation. We toured the cacao tree groves, followed the process from harvest to chocolate bar processing, watched them make chocolate in both the old fashioned way and the mechanized way, and ate chocolate.

Cacao pods! Not what you expected? Not what I expected either.

We went for lunch at a delightful place in town, where Christmas came early.

The rest of Sunday's pics are here: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150359310251373.346103.731621372&type=1&l=d4778c4f90

That's the extent of my travels in the DR. No other trips have been scheduled. And now we are caught up. I hope you enjoy my pictures as much as I enjoyed taking them.

Baseball: the insane tragedy and the majesty of being/Béisbol: la tragedia del loco y la majestad de ser

I like to think of my adventure here as a version of the hero's journey. I've brought that analogy up before here. Sunday night I achieved the step called "atonement with the father." In monomyth analysis, the atonement of the father is when the hero confronts and is initiated by the person or thing that holds the ultimate power in his/her life. It's the central point of the hero's journey. Everything has led up to it and everything thereafter will be directly influenced by it. Most often this step concerns the hero meeting a human male figure, but it can be any gender or even any entity, not just a person.

Naturally, my atonement step was meeting baseball here. I went to my house of worship for my religious experience: taking in a Dominican League baseball game at Estadio Quisqueya.

Here is the photo album from the day

And the prettiest picture of the day:

I went to see Licey and Escogido play. They are the two teams from Santo Domingo and they share the stadium. That made my game crazier than I could have imagined. There was a home team in name only. Escogido was the home team for the day, meaning they had last ups. I saw red for Escogido and blue for Licey in equal amounts around the stadium. Cheers were equally loud for both teams.

Dominican baseball is the same sport I know on the field. Off the field, I was treated to a different experience. The entire stadium was louder than most games I've been to in the States. Only the two major games I attended in 2010 were louder: the 2010 NL West clincher on October 3, and Game 2 of the World Series, both in San Francisco. The fans had horns and noisemakers, plus there was a small marching band with thundering drums and blaring brass playing tunes for Escogido. Every play had the fans waving their flags, red and blue, and blaring their horns.

I'm a veteran of minor league baseball, so I'm used to the gimmicky between innings entertainment featured in minor league games. They have that here too, in the form of a cheerleading/dance team, wacky mascot antics, and a parade by the marching band. The dancers are Venezuelan and Colombian models who fire T-shirt guns into the crowd, dance on the dugout roof, and ride around the warning track in a classic car with red Escogido flags. Every team has dancers and they all wear skimpy outfits.

The mascots had an epic war the entire game. Escogido's mascot, a lion, had several costume changes throughout the night. He wore a devil costume for Halloween and an umpire's getup to make fun of the umpires. When he challenged Licey's mascot, a tiger, to a dance-off and won, the tiger responded by bringing a stroller out of the dugout with a plush lion toy in it, and pushed the stroller around to make fun of the lion.

I can't go anywhere without talking about the food. The ballpark featured several national brands (Presidente beer, Pizzarelli pizza) and some international brands (Chili's margarita stand). Vendors walked around selling a variety of food: pizza, hot dogs, empanandas, Pringles, and the best vendor of them all would fetch a cold beer for you and bring it to your seat. All you had to do was ask. I was told they have vendors serving people in their seats to eliminate people walking around during the games. Brilliant, if you ask me. I got a beer for 80 pesos, a slice of pizza for 95 pesos, and a hat for 125 pesos. All in all, about US$8, and all of it was top notch. Compare a similar day at the yard in the US; $6-10 for a beer (Budweiser on the cheap end, good beer like Anchor Steam on the expensive end), pizza for $7-10 (quality widely ranging from crappy to mediocre), and a hat for $15-30 (fitted caps run more). On top of your ticket, that can be a pricey day.

I had a hard time choosing a hat to buy. There were several stands set up outside the ballpark with hats from all the teams around the league. I decided to wait until I got inside to check out the team stores. Licey and Escogido had one store each. I didn't find anything I liked for Escogido--their fitted caps were either 6 3/4 or 7 1/4, and my size is 6 7/8. I have a rare size I know. But it's possible to find it. I have several 6 7/8 fitted caps. None of the adjustable hats looked good to me. So I went to the Licey store and realized how limited my choices were there too. Licey is blue. Dodger blue. I can't have a hat in any shade of blue that isn't San Jose State, and I especially can't wear anything blue with my Giants gear. I wore my Juan Marichal shirt to the game. No way in hell would I wear a blue hat with that.

I found an all black Licey adjustable cap that fit me well and looks great, so I bought it. I think it's a kids size, because it's really small. But it fits great so I'm happy with my purchase.

We had an hour long rain delay after clouds quickly swept in. It rained hard for about 20 minutes and the rest of the time the grounds crew worked on the field to get it ready for baseball. This keeps up my streak of rain delays at every ballpark I visit outside of San Francisco. I went to Coors Field in Colorado in 2006 and it rained. Biblical downpour thunder and lightning rain. I went to Comerica Park in 2008 and it rained.

Once the rain left and the players could begin their warmups, I saw Brandon Belt come out of the Leones dugout. Belt plays first base (not outfield. Do you hear me, Giants? NOT outfield) in the Giants system and I've interviewed him a few times for my various reporting jobs in the US. I was excited to see him play. I find it hard to get excited about what I see on the field because I spend so much of my time working around baseball. I wouldn't call it boredom, just getting used to what's there. I don't get starstruck easily, I should say.

But I bounced in my seat to see Belt swing a bat in the on deck circle. I felt a link to what I do in the States to what I'm doing here. I was initiated. Dominican baseball was no longer this cloudy subject I had no real picture of. It became real for me at that moment.

I had a flash of a moment buried in my past last night, too. Years ago, I sat in the arcade section of AT&T Park with some friends and watched the Cardinals and Giants play on a foggy July evening. Next to me was a painfully cute Cardinals fan who tried flirting with me the whole night. He asked me questions about my scorecards, about the field, about the teams and I basically gave him the ice queen act. I didn't realize he was trying to get with me until my friend brought it up on the car ride home.

Sunday night, the cute Escogido fan next to me asked me why I was writing in my notebook. He asked my why I was rooting for Licey. He asked me a lot of things I didn't understand. I tried my best to engage him in conversation.

Naturally, when I was as single as they come and dying for a baseball fan boyfriend, I act like a buffoon. I'm with the love of my life now (baseball and Sam) and I become warm and loquacious. Que malo.

I value my first game outside the US for several reasons, but the biggest one for me is having the chance to go to a game as a fan. I don't get to attend many games just to watch them. Most of the time I'm working: taking notes, keeping score, scouting, watching radar guns, shooting the shit with scouts. When I went to the key games for the 2010 San Francisco Giants, I was on edge the whole time because those games meant something. While last night's game meant the world to me, it wasn't watching the team I gave my life to. It wasn't work. I was able to kick back with a beer and chat and take in the most rewarding experience of my life.

Joseph Campbell, who coined the term "monomyth" offered this explanation of atonement of the father:

The problem of the hero going to meet the father is to open his soul beyond terror to such a degree that he will be ripe to understand how the sickening and insane tragedies of this vast and ruthless cosmos are completely validated in the majesty of Being. The hero transcends life with its peculiar blind spot and for a moment rises to a glimpse of the source. He beholds the face of the father, understands—and the two are atoned.

I opened my soul by submitting to the Dominican Republic's definition of baseball in all its insane tragedies. And still it's as beautiful to me as it ever was. It is the majesty of being.

Baseball and I are atoned.

East coast bias/Prejuicio de la costa este

In sports fandom, and sometimes in sports journalism, there's a thing I refer to often called east coast bias. It's the national media's insistence to cover and often fawn over teams on the East coast of the country. Almost 100% of the time, that means New York and Boston. Other teams don't get equal coverage.

ESPN is notorious for this and it's one of the reasons I dislike the network and their coverage. ESPN also has an annoying tendency to pick up a news story and shake it to death like a dog. They did it with their incessant Brett Favre coverage a few years ago. They created an entire block of programming dedicated to where LeBron James would go after his contract with Cleveland expired. They make a mountain out of a whole lot of "who cares?" but their greatest offense is the extreme bias they show toward New York and Boston teams.

Which means they show nothing but Yankees and Red Sox games. They talk about nothing but those teams. In the Bay Area, I can ignore it by watching my regional sports networks and take solace in knowing my sports broadcasters (for the most part) aren't as horrible as the national media.

Here is a different story. I've only seen a few baseball games on TV but all, with the exception of one, has had either the Red Sox, Yankees, or Tampa Bay Rays involved in the contests.

I can see the motivation for this. David Ortiz, the immensely popular Red Sox designated hitter, is Dominican and is one of the best hitters of his generation. Hell, I even like him because he's so jolly. He's such a big deal here that the local newspapers refer to him only as "David." It also makes sense that they would show more Yankees games here because of the large Dominican population in New York. Also, Robinson Cano (born in San Pedro de Macoris) plays for the Yankees and he's very popular as well.

Don't ask about Alex Rodriguez. I did a straw poll a few days after arriving here and I learned that the people here do not like him because he chose to play for the US in the first World Baseball Classic rather than the Dominican Republic.

I can even see why Dominicans would care about Tampa Bay. I assume there are some Dominicans in Florida. They can't all be Cubans.

Last night was one of the most insane nights of my life, and I wasn't even doing anything. I kept an eye on the box scores from the Yankees/Rays and Red Sox/Orioles games, as it was the final day of the regular season and both American and National League Wild Card slots were on the line. The Rays and Red Sox went into Wednesday with identical records. It was the same for Atlanta and St. Louis in the National League. St. Louis won while Atlanta lost, completing a huge collapse and rise for both teams. St. Louis was 8.5 games behind the Wild Card pace on August 25, and now they're in the playoffs.

The Orioles and Rays both came back from deficits in the bottom of the ninth inning. Tampa was down 7-0 before they came back with six runs in the eighth, and then Dan Johnson, a former Oakland scrapheap pickup, hit the game-tying home run with two outs in the bottom of the ninth. The teams battled through three more innings before Evan Longoria hit his second homer of the game in the 12th inning, giving the Rays the victory.

Up the seaboard in Baltimore, the Orioles scored two runs in the bottom of the ninth inning and won the game on a bloop single. Longoria was standing in the batters' box at 12:02am eastern time as the out of town scoreboard flashed the final score of the Red Sox game. At 12:05am, the Rays were AL Wild Card champions.

In the span of three minutes, an entire baseball season changed. That's why this sport is so beautiful.

I was at the final game of the 2010 season in San Francisco, when the NL West title came down to the last day. The Giants won of course, and it was absolute bedlam. I swear I felt the whole stadium shake. The Giants players took a victory lap around the warning track high fiving fans. Tim Lincecum dropped an F bomb on live television over the jumbotron (thus a swearing legend was born). On the way out of the stadium, I saw a SFFD fire wagon roar down King Street with sirens blaring and lights flashing and a huge Giants flag flying behind it.

A month later we were World Champions.

 

So I know how those Tampa and St. Louis fans feel. The Rays or the Cardinals could be World Series winners, or they could not be. But they won with their backs against the wall and I can tell you that feels so damn good.

It also feels good to be a fan of this beautiful game when the fates of so many teams depend on the final day. It's akin to Game 7 of any sport. Everything is on the line. It's the highest level of excitement we can get.

Around town here I see billboards for the MLB playoffs on TBS and FOX. I will get to see the World Series in its entirety. FOX, despite being located in Los Angeles, has horrible announcers that are experts in East Coast bias rhetoric. That didn't stop me from watching the World Series last year, or the year before, etc.

As for me being a Giants fan and watching my team take a complete nosedive and miss the playoffs, I'm not as upset as I should be. We won last year, and after 56 years of nothing, I'll take it. The Red Sox are out, which pleases me. And the Dodgers still suck, which is a moral victory for us all.

Longoria's home run puts him in exalted company. He and Bobby Thomson ("The Shot Heard 'round the World") are the only players in Major League history to hit walk-off homers in the final game of the regular season to clinch a playoff spot. 

From 1951 to 2011.

Baseball really is beautiful.

And hey! My first article on my research in the D.R. has been posted: Epy Guerrero’s baseball legacy lives in the US and the Dominican Republic. Go! Read! Thank the gods that they picked semi-flattering photos of me!

Something (really) old/Algo (muy) viejo

Monday was my trip to La Zona Colonial, the section of Santo Domingo that was the first settlement in the Americas. I had to resist the urge to title this post First!


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.