In Which We Must Spend The Night In Pedernales

¨At the western end of Hwy 44, after a long journey through the thorn
forest, is the hot and dusty frontier city of Pedernales, which has nothing to
offer the tourist aside from a few bad hotels and several forgettable
eateries. ...If you must spend the night in Pedernales, look no farther
than the Rossy, next to the Shell has station at the eastern entrance to
town. ...It´s a no-frills place, as is everything in Pedernales.¨
- Lonely Planet, D.R. & Haiti, 2nd edition 2002

What´s not to love about Kate´s Dominican home?

We arrived in Kate´s little corner of paradise after an epic seven hour guagua ride. We knew it was going to be special when our 7:30 a.m. bus was already almost packed with luggage when we were loaded on. Kate got the enviable location in the last row on the makeshift aisle seat, i.e. an upturned bucket covered with a cushion. I was located one row in front of her, next to a kindly abuela with her granddaughter on her knee to my right and a young man to my left who read his bible for most of the journey. It looked as if we might have a fairly comfortable ride with only five altogether in our row of seats when I was distracted by a fairly voluptuous 16 year old girl pushing her way towards the back, yelling at everyone to get out of her way as she had to go sit with her sister. She shoved people aside on the already crowded bus, stepping on and around fellow passengers, as she finally made her way to our row and unceremoniously squeeeeeezed into the small space left that we all had previously been using for such unnecessary things as oxygen. Fully packed in, off we went. It was all quite the adventure for the first two hours, with such luck as to have a blaring radio soundtrack for added cinematic value. The last five hours... let´s just say we survived (poor Kate had a live rooster under her seat which took great pleasure in pecking at her feet now and again).

But make it we did, and now I have the great pleasure of bearing witness to Kate (or Kati, as she is known here) in her Dominican element. We lugged our ridiculous amount of bags to her front door, where she was immediately accosted by thousands of children shouting ¨KATI KATI KATI!!!¨ and begging to be picked up and let in and wondering what Kate had brought for them. Kate´s home is a cozy little five room government built 5 room house (none of the rooms very big, mind you, but just the right size), decorated with treasures found at the famous Haitian market Kate loves so dearly, as well as photos, quotes, and D.R. -related art (including drawings made especially for Kate by the neighborhood kids). We share her mosquito-netted double bed (guards against those darned malaria-ridden nocturnal pests), cook on her double burner portable gas stove, and diligently fill all water buckets for the two hours a day the water comes on.

Kate has introduced me to almost everyone that makes up her little community here (all absolutely ecstatic to see her again... our first few days were punctuated with ¨Kati where have you BEEN? It´s so good to SEE you!!¨), including her 50 year old best friend Lili, a farmer with the coffee association who is also one of Kate´s biggest supporters on the latrine project, her 17 year old best friend Wilma who is off to NMH´s summer program in a few months to learn english, her one year old goddaughter Carla who has just so many teeth, the all important Brujo the batita man, as well as a whole host of others like Lala, Lydia, Maney, Cuca, etc. etc. who all offer delicious highly sweetened coffee or mayhaps a heaping plate of rice, beans, and fried salami when we go a-visiting.

So it´s pretty amazing that in little over than one short year Kate has made a whole life out here, and all in spanish. Which she speaks fluently. So now, of course, I also have to finally and totally learn spanish, because it drives me crazy to almost understand everything and to almost be able to talk to people. Mayhaps the next adventure?? Anyhoo, the hour´s almost up, stories are to come.