I took a looooooong walk along the Malecon today (aka George Washington Avenue). This is the main road along the Caribbean in Santo Domingo, lined with high rise hotels and apartments on one side and the sparkling ocean on the other. On Sundays, the avenue is closed to traffic and it’s supposed to be a very festive atmosphere. However, I was early for the party, getting there about 12:30, and vendors were just beginning to set up food and beer stands, portable skateboard parks, and other activities facilities. I saw several people dressed up in clown costumes, but I have no idea what that is about–just part of the scene, I guess. Next Sunday I’ll arrive a bit later in the afternoon to see what the hype is all about. It’s a beautiful area, though, with the ocean crashing against the jetty along the road. I walked for about an estimated 6 miles and I’m pretty bushed right now.
I discovered that my apartment is not too far from a very large park, Mirador Del Sur, a good area for jogging and other recreational activities. I’ll have to get up early in the morning to avoid the heat if I’m going to do any running. Once I get settled into the Yankee camp, I expect that I’ll have a great place to jog and exercise. I’m hoping they’ll have a weight room that I can use.
Since last night was Saturday, I kind of expected the apartment building would be noisy: it was. One gal started walking around outside my apartment about 2:30 in the morning, screaming into her cell phone at someone. The person above me got home about the same time and started moving chairs around, scraping them across the bare floor, a sound akin to fingernails scraping across a blackboard–very hairraising and not conducive to sleep. I think this person followed me from Morocco!
A note to all of my friends who have emailed me lately or left comments on this blog–I’ll start getting back to you as soon as I move into the Yankee campus on Oct. 10, when I’ll get my own fast internet connection. The connections here in S.D. are pretty sketchy and can be frustrating at times. Former Moroccan students–be patient and I’ll explain why I’m in the Dominican Republic and not in Korea, like you expected me to be. More later.