DOMINICAN REPUBLIC NOTES

19 April 2001 8:15 am Santo Domingo, DR
Aquair and I spent the night at Malik’s house on the outskirts of Santo Domingo.  He and his wife Ingrid are very friendly.  Ingrid is helping me with my Spanish, partly because her English is very limited. Between us there is a lot of hand gesture talking.

Evening late 20 April
We are in the small village of Las Terranas about 3 hours northwest of Santo Domingo. So far the adventure to the DR has been interesting.  Old Spanish style buildings, hot spicy foods, and beautiful weather have encompassed us.  I have met some interesting people too.  Bruce is an American from New Jersey who has a Japanese wife.  They have lived in Las Terranas for two years now.  He met her while teaching English in Japan.  He is well traveled and from his conversation I can tell he has experienced a lot. He has had three stints in the Peace Corps. 1. The Dominican Republic; 2. Botswana; 3.Japan.  He has had two Japanese wives and he is also well read.

We told Bruce about my project.  He told us about this woman he knows who is a descendant of slaves from America.  She speaks English and they call her Nana.   
We found her.  Her English was limited, but she told us about a lady named Lela.  We went to see her and she told us about some people with the last names of Williams, Johnson, Kelly, and Jackson.  These are typical black American names.  Both Nana and Lela had strong African features.  Their skin was smooth dark and graciously weathered.  Nana’s hair was thick, strong and kinky, but Lela’s was silky black with strands of gray intermingling.

Walking back to the villa, we saw where the cockfights are held each Thursday and Sunday from 10:am- 6:pm.  Aquair said they are brutal.  Although the animal rights groups would have something to say about this age-old sport, I’m looking forward to documenting it.

Aquair was right.  The cockfights are brutal.  This is a time for male bonding between Dominicans.  These brothers are serious and they are betting some serious pesos.  From the looks of things, the cocks are breed specifically for fighting.  They are awesomely beautiful creatures.  Reds, browns, blacks, whites, all of these colors can be seen on just one rooster.

There is usually one guy who fits the legs with the spurs.  The preparation is very graphic so I won’t write about it.  I’ll just say it involves a knife and tape.

When the owners bring in their roosters, they are held in pens that are stacked four crates high and six across.  Each box is numbered.  The roosters are chosen to fight based on their weight.  They are then put into gunny bags and hung by a drawstring on a scale.  While the roosters are being prepared, men are talking junk boasting about their birds-what they have done and what they will do.
This particular arena has tiered seating in the round.  It’s about four levels.  Each level has a different cost for seating.  The front row where you are closer to the action cost 100 Pecos that is about $6.00.

21 April
We spent the entire day in Samana where we had good luck finding descendants of the slaves.  We mentioned a few names at the market and started asking for the black people who spoke English.  We asked for last names of Johnson, Kelly, Jones and Williams.  We found one lady who spoke broken English, leaving out verbs and she said her last name was Kelly.  After talking with her for a while, she introduced us to another lady with the name of Jones.  Her English was better, more fluid.  With each person we met, their English was fragmented, but the modern words progressed and became more understandable to my ears.  We finally met this man named Andre Johnson.  Andre spoke modern day English, verbs, nouns, pronouns, adverbs, and adjectives.  His language was excellent, but his history was shaky.  He said there was another man who knows the family history very well.   We were told he would be at church.  We decided we would search for this church in the morning.

21 April (afternoon)
On the way out of town (Samana), we saw people standing outside a small corner store, so we stopped and asked about this church and also the church that the slaves built.  A short brown skinned lady said her great-great grandfather was on a ship called the Turtle Dove.  He helped build a church. The ship was from Philadelphia (USA) and the Bishop Richard Allen sent it.  (Bishop Allen was the founder of the African Methodist Episcopal Church).  We were getting warmer with our quest.
After talking with her for a while, she admitted that her cousin knew more of the history than she did.  Her cousin lived behind her.  She walked us around and introduced us to her cousin named Manuel Leslie Wilmore Johnson.   He is the great-great grandson of Jackson Wilmore one of the freed slaves on the ship Turtle Dove.  We were on to something.

After talking to him for a while, he mentioned his sister who was a retired schoolteacher wrote a paper about the family history of those who were on that ship.  He took us to her house. Her name is Martha Wilmore.  He said her English was perfect and she would allow us to read her paper.

22 April 7:am
It’s a downpour.  The rain is coming down in curtains and you can barely see through it.  It is very relaxing to hear as it splatters on the giant green palm tree leaves.  Outside of my window, there is this giant Mother-in-Laws tongue plant with spear shaped leaves reaching toward the beckoning sun.  This plant is as tall as a one-story house and as wide as a compact car is long.  Listening to this rain makes me want to go back to bed.  The rhythm is over powering.  I think I’ll lie back down and take a nap.

12:00 pm
I’m standing on the main avenue, watching people catch rainwater in buckets, pails, bottles, whatever containers they can get they use.  Water is precious worldwide.

22 April 10pm
Aquair had this feeling we could find a voodoo ceremony in Las Terranas, because there are so many Haitians.  After dinner, we were driving back to the villa when he suggested we detour down this back road.  Down the back road, we saw Haitian art lying against this fence.  We stopped and asked about the practice of voodoo in Las Terranas.  The first guy said he would ask around and find us tomorrow. 
In a few minutes, I saw the young man I bought a painting from earlier today.  He remembered me and greeted me in French.  I was glad to see him, which showed the other guy that Aquair and I are serious about witnessing a voodoo ceremony.  I think we had our foot in the door.  

24 April Back in Santo Domingo
There is a parade going on at the Cristolbo Colon Square that is named after Christopher Columbus.  There is a statue in his likeness.

Many Dominicans look like me.  They come up talking and I just smile and tell them I don’t speak Spanish.  Some of the words I can catch and I respond, but they speak too fast for my non-Spanish interpreting ears.