BIENVENIDA A LA REPÚBLICA DOMINICANA

Welcome back to the Sisters Abroad! Well, in this case Sister (and Mom) Abroad. I have to say, it was very weird to be dropped off at the airport by Joelle, only for her to drive away instead of fly away with me.

Two weeks ago, I was visiting friends in California. They found out I had a week off of work coming up with nothing planned. They quickly worked to remedy the situation, looking at flights and listing all the places I could go. My main excuse: I don’t want to go by myself. Jason then threw out a trip he did in 2016: You could go to surf camp in the Dominican Republic! It’s ~70% solo travelers. Next thing I know, I’m filling out the interest form to see if the dates are even available. By the next morning, I had a response that they were. I called Mom to let her know my plans, and shortly after, she is coming with me. Spring Break trip planned and booked within 24 hours. I don’t know which is more impressive: That they convinced me I could go by myself or that they got Mom to go with me on two weeks notice.

So, here we are. A 10 hour redeye and 15 hour total trek from Denver through Newark to the Dominican, fortunately uninterrupted by the snow storm through Denver, and Mom and I are walking off the plane, welcomed to the Dominican by live, island music that immediately indicates vacation. Thank you Emily and Jason!

Walking outside, we find the humidity, warmth, and hustle and bustle of drivers picking up passengers and taxis trying to fill their cars with newly arrived visitors. We are immediately greeted by a Dominican man holding a “Taxi” sign and walked over to a large van with a taxi driver. On the walk over, the Dominican man is telling us that it’s an unusually cloudy day; then, he hands us off to the driver. With bags loaded, us in the car, and the driver ready to go, the man stands in the open door telling us he works only for tips and asks us for his tip for walking us over. This starts a series of confused back and forth when we realize we only have large denomination bills. Eventually, he tells us to pay the driver for the taxi ride and then to use the change to tip him. Done. Everyone happy!

Now just us and the driver, he starts pulling away, only to be stuck in quite the traffic jam of taxis. I ask him if he knows where he is going, after many emails from the Swell Surf Camp team indicated you have to be very specific and show the map. We now realize he only speaks Spanish. Oh boy, time to dust off my Spanish. It’s been awhile to say the least. Through some broken Spanish and pointing on the map, we finally get somewhere, but I’m not convinced he totally knows where he is going. And Mom isn’t convinced he’s taking us to our destination, given he started driving with no destination in mind. No problem, I just follow our dot on the map until I say “a la derecha aquí” (to the right here) when we reach the one turn needed from the main road to get to our surf camp. Needless to say, I don’t think he was planning to turn there.

We enter Swell, welcomed by Haudy - our point of contact for all things this week. We find another traveler, Parker, who was apparently on the same flight as us from Newark. Haudy gives us the rundown and takes Parker to get settled in his room. Upon her return, she goes to the office and calls for Hannah. I enter the office. “You’re Hannah??”. “Yes…”. She was shocked to discover that I, and not Mom, am Hannah — the Hannah communicating with her about all trip logistics the past couple weeks. It took her a series of questions and a few minutes of disbelief to overcome that one. With our arrival bill settled, we head to our room to quickly drop our stuff before beginning our first day in the Dominican! Who needs sleep…

T, Mom’s friend from Niwot who has since moved to the Dominican, meets us in the Swell common area to take us to lunch and show us around. We, of course, bring Parker along with us. We walk up the busy street, with lots of motorbikes flying down the road and taking very fast turns. T quickly explains, “even if the cars stop, don’t go!” The motorbikes come out of nowhere going so fast, not necessarily stopping when the cars do. She recently had a friend get hit by one when crossing the street, and she broke her leg. That makes crossing the street quite the event, with all four of us sprinting across the road in a gap. We have lunch at this very cute restaurant—Gypsy Bowls. If not fully vegan, it’s mostly vegan. We order yummy Golden Milk Lattes and two bowls; it’s definitely time for some real food! Turns out, eating here in Cabarete is easier than eating in the Newark airport. We swap stories with Parker and then head down to the beach.

The beach is beautiful, not too busy, and full of kite surfers out in the water. I, of course, immediately go to feel the water. The first waves seem cold, but it warms up as we walk along the beach. There are several hotels and also many locals and international residents. Everyone is out to enjoy a nice afternoon! We make it all the way down the beach one way then turn to go down the other way. There are so many kite surfers! Today is considered a mild wind day. A recent storm has washed out large sections of the beach; you can see where the sand used to be and now where it is, with big drop offs and even some stairs descending to what now is nothing other than a very large drop to the sand below. As we walk, we quickly realize that T knows everyone. She shows us some of the places she has stayed while living here, and she is saying hi to nearly everyone as we go. Pretty cool.

We make it to where Mom stayed when she was here a few years ago—eXtreme Cabarete—and stop for a break in the restaurant next door—Mesa Taina Restaurant. The waiter introduces himself and tells us “Welcome Home.” Apparently it isn’t uncommon for people to come for a week and then never leave. We have some snacks and drinks, chat, and watch an adorable baby and his siblings play in the sand. Soon, Mom says, “oh, there’s the man with the horse.” Sure enough, there is a man with a horse riding down the beach. This man also rode his horse down the beach when she was here last. Then, another man comes to flirt with T, to which she responds no, no. It seems he has tried this everyday for two years.

With Mom and I fading quick, we make the walk back down the beach and stop at T’s current place, which is beautiful. She points us in the direction of Swell, and after crossing the street very carefully, we are on another one of the main streets with lots of open-air restaurants, open-air barber shops, and locals bustling around.

Back at Swell, the night security guard lets us in. Mom tries asking him a question, only to realize he only speaks Spanish. Through some of my rusty, broken Spanish we communicate before turning in for the night. Surf Camp starts at 6:30 tomorrow!