the irony of foreigners taking native Dominicans on trips in their own country

Like any other school, the DREAM summer school had field trips for the kids. A lot of places along the northern coast of the Dominican Republic are set up for tourists, and thus set up for tourist prices, but DREAM takes the students to 'see the sights' in their own country. Seriously so cool. As a teacher, I wasn't in charge of any particular group of kids, so I usually didn't accompany them on their trips (due to a money/time factor), but I did get to go to Teleferico.
Teleferico is a cable car that goes up the Mount Isabel de Torres in Puerto Plata, giving a SPECTACULAR view of the city, the ocean, etc. The day before my group was scheduled to go there was a lot of wind and rain from a tropical wave (which apparently is less intense than a tropical storm), and so I was praying for clear skies.

TA-DA! Clear skies

So we got on the bus and headed for the adventure. The kids were really excited. Heck, I was excited. But I contained it better.

percussion music while we were waiting

The really great thing about this country is that almost every picture I take looks amazing because the country is SOOO pretty.





[Here I break from chronology and go for thematic]

At the end of the summer camp, the students wanted to hang out with us some more, so a handful of the volunteers decided to take them to the beach near the school. 10ish adults (that would be the volunteers) and 50ish kids. I am so glad no one got hurt.

Funny story from this enterprise: a  young boy offered me a wrapped piece of candy, and had one for himself as well. He tossed the wrapper on the ground, and I told him (in Spanish) "Don't throw the trash there. We need to protect the land." His reply: "Okay, let's put it in the ocean." :) I don't think the message on littering got through.

SANTO DOMINGO

There is probably a traveler's rule somewhere that says it is a good idea to visit the capital of the country you are in. If not, I propose it become one.
At the end of my 3rd week there, my university group took a weekend trip to Santo Domingo, which is on the south side of the island. I don't remember how long the bus ride was, but it sure felt long, because somebody threw up inside the bus.

During one of the pit stops, we noticed that we were heading to our
 'destiny'

We got to Santo Domingo around dinner time, and made a beeline for the McDonald's there. Normally, I don't like fast food, but hunger and familiarity with the food does wonders for taste.
Our main purpose of going to Santo Domingo was to visit the Latter-Day Saint temple there, so we stayed in the MTC (Missionary Training Center) there, which doubles as a sort of hostel for church members who are travelling to the temple.

The temple

The grounds are absolutely gorgeous

The BYU group!

Saturday, after visiting the temple, we explored the town, taking pictures, eating, haggling for souvenirs, and probably looking obnoxiously white.

some government building...

a memorial for Duarte, Sanchez, and Mella

inside the memorial

where Christopher Colombus last lived in the Americas

getting sandwiches

Inside the 'Pantheon of the Country"

an amusing translation;
children alone are, apparently, very dangerous

I ran into Santos while there. small world!

Another funny translation: our cleaning checklist says we should  leave garbage in the waste basket.
check!

The really great thing about where we stayed is that it had washers and dryers, so I got to wash my clothes! Don't worry, I had been washing them before, but it was by hand, which is quite tedious.

fitting in weekend fun

Working out kinks in the first week of summer school can be stressful, so one night all of the volunteers went to a local restaurant for dinner and dancing. Turns out I am pretty good at Dominican dancing (basically a lot of hip-shaking).
[Side note on dancing/music--People here don't sing along to songs; they dance to them. Dominicans like songs for the rhythm, not for pitch or tone--I'm thinking it's because dancing to rhythm makes more sense than dancing to pitch. Also, it is really common for the teenagers to put music on their cell phones and then pull out a dance party anywhere.]
That Friday, me and 6 other girls convinced one of the guy volunteers to take us to Puerto Plata to go shopping. The guy, name of Justin, is practically Hispanic himself for his grasp on Spanish language and culture. Plus he has good fashion taste.

And he was a good tour guide...

In one of the stores we went in, I saw what Dominicans do for baby/wedding registries:

They stick what they want in 'registry shelves', and then people can just pick out an item and buy it. I was impressed enough to take a picture, apparently.
After shopping, we walked along the malecon (boardwalk)

 and headed to dinner: Dominoes. I was extremely thrilled to eat American food. Plus it was located in an "American style" shopping center

Yes, I took a picture of the shopping center. I think I was homesick.

My favorite memory of the night, though, was the travelling part of it. We had taken a guagua (a 4 or 5 row van that is used as a transport vehicle) up to the city of Puerto Plata, and that trip I think we had around 30 people crammed in--there really is no limit to how many people a guagua can take, as long as they 'fit'--hanging on the side, sitting in laps, whatever works. On the trip back, it was too late at night for guaguas to be running, so the 8 of us literally piled into a compact-car taxi--5 girls in the back seat, Justin, me, and another girl in the passenger seat, and the driver. Boy, it was a long drive back!

Saturday, all of the volunteers from my university (Brigham Young University) went on a rafting trip. I have been white water rafting before, but this trip takes the cake. We were outfitted with helmets, wet suits, and life jackets, which is good because we flipped our raft, hit some rocks, and went down at least 3 intense rapids. Our guide was good enough to save our skins. Except I did get sunburned

Yes, it hurt

Some of us didn't get quite enough of the city sights of Puerto Plata, so after attending church there on Sunday, Bjorn, me, and my two roommates toured La Puntilla. It's a fort that used to protect the bay.

The doorways were built low so that defenders could slice off beseigers' heads.
But all I had was a water bottle

Model posing

Bust of Juan Pablo Duarte at a Masonic mansion
See symbol below

So here's the pun--'caber' in Spanish means 'to fit'; our trips to and from Cabarete [hey, it's pronounced about the same] involved fitting into vehicles intended for far fewer passengers.

inside a guagua