Twilight 3. Dominican Impressions
The absurdities began on the plane (Boryspil - La Romana flight). The road is long, it takes 13 hours to fly to America directly. There are two main activities at this time: sleep or drink and then sleep. The public was mainly engaged in this. Yes, I know that you can’t drink on an airplane, but what are you going to do to us? Will you take it out? Or will you commit a forced act in the middle of the Atlantic?
Therefore, the flight attendants pretended not to notice, and the security service did not stick out at all. And why stick out if there is no massacre? What scuffle? This is not a plane for you to Egypt. No one is allowed into the Dominican Republic.
We talked with the flight attendants. I ask:
- Will you at least have time to swim before the return trip?
- And then, - he says, - we will have time no less than yours. We are all flying back together.
- How so? I'm surprised.
- And so that in La Romana we get off, another crew gets on the plane and flies to Canada, then to Dubai, then somewhere else. And after 2 weeks it returns, and our crew is taking you, rested, home. The plane cannot stand idle, but we, the crews, can easily!
- Great! I say. – Also, it means you are going to rest.
- You, uncle, do not confuse, you are on vacation, and we are at work!
- What's the difference? - I'm puzzled.
– And that we are paid for it! Well, there, a hotel, all-inclusive, daily allowances... So, uncle, you chose the wrong job for yourself!
A popular legend in Haiti says that five centuries ago, when Columbus discovered this island, named it Hispaniola and collapsed exhausted on the gentle sand of the beach, he seemed to declare that this is heaven on earth. I don’t know, maybe he said… There were no witnesses left. At least tourists and locals like this legend. And therefore, we will conditionally consider that the Dominican Republic is a paradise. Well, since heaven, then the orders here are appropriate. The philosophy of local life is to do everything slowly or do nothing at all. And where to hurry, paradise! For example, have you ever seen a righteous person in paradise hurrying with all his might to a concert by a choir of angels? Or, say, a righteous man, headlong flying to take a free cloud in order to lie on it with a lyre? That's it! Nobody is in a hurry there. It is the same here, in the earthly branch. If a mulatto says that something will be ready there in 5 minutes, this means that you will have to wait at least half an hour. Well, the local "manyana" (Spanish for "tomorrow") means... but it doesn't mean anything. Well, think for yourself, what could be in paradise "tomorrow"? Here every day is "today"!
The only thing they don't like to delay here is singing and dancing. They always prioritize it! Why work when you can dance? And they dance, sons of bitches, perfectly. The bartender stands alone behind the counter - he sings to himself in full voice and dances. The cleaning lady, a mulatto in her fifties, washes the floor in the lobby, dancing with a mop. We have such behavior - a sign of schizophrenia. In paradise - the norm.
No, of course, if mulattoes want to sell you something for money, then completely different laws apply here. The aborigine instantly comes out of the state of stupidity and clings to you with a stranglehold. And then, like a real Arab, he won’t let go until you buy cigars, excursions, souvenirs from him...
There is a popular belief that mulattos prefer to stay in magnificent forms. This is not entirely true. Lush forms are in use below the waist. In other words, the bigger the butt, the more arrogant its owner. She wears her thick ass with pride and dignity. I noticed it by the reaction to compliments. If you say to a slender mulatto that she is, they say, “Chica bonita”, then the girl will smile, be embarrassed and begin to thank. The hit one will only slightly lower his eyelids as a sign that the compliment has been favorably received. It’s clear, they say, that the “bonita” probably didn’t grow such stern in vain!
We got a noble room, as it turned out later, there were several of these for the entire hotel, a “golden fund”. But I got it not for nothing, but for a compliment about the "bonita". He praised Chika at the reception. It was not in vain that I was preparing...
At the same time, a couple of our age from the Dnieper settled with us (in a worse room, of course). She is Natasha, he is Yura. They put us in an electric car with a luggage trailer and took us to our apartments. And the time is already late... Natasha, seeing that I have been trained in languages, says, you, they say, ask the black driver where the round-the-clock bar is. Arrival should be celebrated! Well, I think, our man, we need to continue our acquaintance. And they continued. After half an hour. At the bar.
Following the instructions of the mulatto driver, we walked around one pool, turned around, passed the second pool, checked with drunken Macedonians (yeah, we are going the right way) and exactly between the second pool and the ocean we find what we are looking for. And here is not only a round-the-clock bar, but also a restaurant with a hook for night owls. Hosh - burger, hosh - pizza, hosh - all sorts of sweets, salads without counting... All for the benefit of the tourist, so as not to get emaciated overnight.
Just managed to take two “muchos” rums, when Yura and Natasha pulled themselves up.
"Mucho" because the mulatto bartenders are still not used to dealing with our people and pour it to the bottom, as if we are some kind of Canadians or, as a shame to say, Belgians. So you go through the neck with your finger, saying “mucho-mucho”.
Yura doesn't speak languages, that's why they put a drop on his bottom, but he knows his business and rushes four glasses, not two. If not by quality, then by quantity, I think I'll take it.
In a word, although we arrived at the hotel late at night, we didn’t waste time in vain. Get drunk for the glory of God!
For a long time, for a short time, but we overslept the morning meeting with the guide. Well, okay. But they were in time for breakfast. Well, I think getting hung over with beer is commonplace, so I order two champagnes for myself and my squaw. Yes, I know who drinks champagne in the morning! I don't need it here! Sometimes you really want to feel like an aristocrat. The mulatto waitress took the order and danced towards the bar. And we don’t start breakfast, we wait for it to bring. And the soul asks. And she's not there. And breakfast is cold. And she doesn't itch.
No, she brought it when they had already eaten and were about to leave. I would be nice if I honestly waited. I went to the bar myself and took what I needed. Well, since I brought it, the good should not disappear... My heart felt better!
I felt better, but the missus fell into disrepair.
- It's bad for me, - he says, - I'll go to bed in my room.
- What are you, wake up! First day in the Caribbean! Be stingy in the ocean, and then you can die.
- Buy yourself. Just come back from time to time, check if you're alive.
In vain she let me go. I met Russians from Saransk - they missed a glass of rum. Met the French - red wine. With an American - tequila. On the beach I ran into Yura and Natasha. They, sick, are treated with rum. There are six empty glasses on the table under the palm leaf fungus. One more drink in hand. Along the way, the guys crossed the line of careless hangover. I ran for rum for myself, do not leave my friends. Supported. And all this in the morning, before lunch.
In such an obscene form, he came to check on his wife's well-being. It sucks, he says, I'll probably skip lunch, but we'll see how it goes with dinner.
I got up for dinner. Go, he says, check if they give oysters.
- And they give oysters, and octopuses, and some kind of fish. This is seafood. And also all sorts of different meats and in general... Let's go, you will find something for yourself. Tokmo rum initially needs to strengthen the stomach. Rum, after all, from all ailments - rum.
Then they danced in the lobby to a mulatto singer. She performed Latin American hits. She performed well. We danced in a “Look-how-I-move-well-moving-well” state. What-I'm-plastic-and-handsome. " They even broke the applause (“applyauza”, as they say here).
At 23.00, the fun in the lobby ends. We moved to the disco. Yura and Natasha are with us. And the state of the degree in the blood is in the red sector. Explosive! At the disco, Natasha hit on some mulatto: “What the hell are you looking at and smiling? Do we dance badly? Get up, show me how! " The poor mulatto sits with his chick, does not touch anyone. And smiles at his mulatto thoughts. He sees that this is a serious matter, the woman is belligerent. She just stopped a galloping horse and came to the disco. There is nowhere to go. Got up. Dancing.
I'm with Yura:
- Kill her, we'll unleash an international incident!
- Yes, you are not pissing. SHA NEPEG SHAYSIT AND COUNTED. I know her.
Yura is calm as a turtle. Proudly adds:
- She is my fighter!
- How will it be extinguished? ! Maybe you have to extinguish blacks in the Dnieper - the norm. And then they can go to jail!
But Natasha is not appeased. As soon as the mulatto sits down to rest, she is right there: “Get up, bastard, dance! ”. So she drilled until they took her and Yura to sleep.
The first day in the Dominican Republic was so eventful.
The locals are very proud of their national drink, Mamajuana. This is alcohol. Sweet, tasty and moderately strong (30 degrees, I think).
Come on, mulatto, pour us Mamajuana's daws.
He takes out thimbles and pours them.
- Hey, what are you, let's "mucho"!
The bartender waves his hands, explains that "mucho" is in no way possible. And fluently babbles in his mulatto dialect. I insist. He waved his hand, gave up, pours half a glass.
I only found out later that Mamajuana is an exceptionally powerful aphrodisiac, both for men and women. And that you should not be zealous and drink more than the recommended dose - the effect will be just the opposite. And we are like ordinary booze... Uncomfortable in front of mulattoes.
One day in the lobby we met a hefty black man in gold. Not just in gold, but this very gold on it was about five kilograms. Nothing less! Two chains on the neck, almost anchor. On one is a square plate, the size of an icon, on the other is a medallion like a saucer. On all fingers - in general, on all! - rings. And on each wrist - wide bracelets. All this is covered with signs and writings. And he, as black as a wax, is all in white, and when he moves, there is a ringing. Looks like an antique ebony chiffonier with mezzanines. We took a picture with him.
- Where are you from so handsome?
“Actually, I'm around here, from Trinidad and Tobago, but I've lived in Canada for many years, sir. That's where I came from.
– Do all these trinkets mean something or just like that?
Yes, sir, they have many meanings. Each symbolizes milestones in my life: this one - I was a boxer, this one - my wife, this one - my children...
– So you are a rich man?
– No sir, I'm not rich, but I feel rich.
To call him, of course, Tyrone (negroes have Tyrone, like the Germans have Hans). 60 years old, but looks at most 43. Wife - 37. Two children. Everyone here, over there, drinking cocktails.
Well, Natasha was not around. She would not miss the chance to scratch her fists.
Even at home, my wife planned a trip to about. Saona. There, they say, on this about. , an advertisement for a bounty was filmed. No, really! I googled. Filmed on six different world, including Saona, and then chose the best picture.
We agreed with the Dnieper people, chose a day and went to join the beautiful. First by minibus to the bay. Moved to the boat. Such a healthy one. 2 seats on each side. A total of 28 seats plus a captain, plus a sailor. On the way we stopped to take pictures at the confluence of the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. This is a clear watershed on the Internet in the photo - here the water is light, and here it is dark. And on the spot there is no difference, water and water.
On the way to the island there is another tourist place. Natural pool. Everywhere deep to the chest. In any direction, even a kilometer, go everywhere. And starfish. Lot. Others are almost the size of the Kremlin ones. Aunts always take pictures with them. A mulatto sailor among tourists walks in the water. In one hand, a bottle of rum, in the other - cola, the third handing out disposable cups. People swell.
On the island, the same activity: drinking and taking pictures. People are crowding near the sloping palm tree - "Here it is from the advertisement! ". As always, there was a smart guy: "Yes, this is not the one, the one on the other side of the island. " So he was almost slapped on the neck. And rightly so! Look, people are depriving people of their dreams!
In the meantime, lunch arrived. Right on the beach. Not very varied, but meat and lobsters were given. Yura, as usual, double the number of glasses pret. There are four of us, and he has eight in his hands. He doesn't know the magic word mucho. I gave a master class, then another. And then our ladies dragged us from the platform by swimming trunks, where mulatto animators held a disco for children. So what if we are old crap, maybe we are children at heart!
They returned from the island not by boat, but by catamaran. A catamaran like Kevin Costner's in Water World, only four times the size. There is a deck, a bar, cabins, toilets, and trampolines are stretched between the hulls. And again the rum flows like a river. Of course, they danced, even attracted some French and Germans. Well, we couldn’t get around the trampolines with our attention. The captain personally pulled us by the hands from them: “Well, adults, although drunk, somehow don’t understand that you can fly overboard. Catch you later. ”
Local tourist shops are a separate issue. There are two types of them: mulatto and Russian (Russians, who settled in paradise, discovered). Assortment: among other things, local specifics are pronounced, that is, what the island lives from. These are rum, cigars, cocoa and coffee. In mulatto shops, you have to bargain and then the price will be two to three times lower than the declared one. In Russian, the price is fixed, it is written on the price tags. Everything is exclusively in dollars. And in Russians it is the same as after trading with mulattoes. But still, very expensive. But these are tourist shops, and in city supermarkets, they say, everything is much cheaper.
Attentive reader will say that this author is all “mulattos and mulattos”, isn't he a racist? ! No, not a racist! Well, maybe a little. And there are almost no whites here. Everyone was slaughtered when they fought for independence. Well, now there are Russians, well, American and Dutch millionaires own villas, but there are few of them and they do not assimilate with the locals. Therefore, for the natives, the issue of skin color is very important. In vain, there is a saying in use here: "A rich black man is a mulatto, a poor mulatto is a black man. " I must say that in neighboring Haiti, people are much blacker, although both they and the Dominicans are descendants of slaves from black Africa.
To tell the truth, in the Dominican Republic there are also pure blacks, but I didn’t notice that they were so worried about this. But everyone who is not black, like anthracite, protects the skin from the sun (long sleeves, trousers, hats). My wife and I observed the same fear of the sun in India and Thailand... They do not want to be darker than they are. Not prestigious.
The pool bar was densely occupied by Latinos (well, there, Argentina, Chile, Brazil, Colombia... ) From half past eleven until sunset they are on a glass. The noise is unimaginable, laughter. Every soldering minutes: "Arriba! ".
Later, a Bob Marley dreadlocked rastaman taught me the popular Caribbean toast:
– Arriba (glasses up)
– Abajo (glasses down)
– Al centro (glasses at chest height)
– Un poco de movimiento (Shake it up)
- Salud (for health) - you should drink on this phrase.
But, honestly, there are no drunks. There are no drunks, not even Russians. However, Latinos not only thump on the pool, on the beach too.
Every day at the same place, a group of elderly caballeros from Argentina, 7-8 people, move the sunbeds and start drinking rum. Do they have a corporate trip there, or what? ! By lunchtime, they reach the desired condition, go dancing (fortunately, the music is constant) or drive up to young chicks.
Once, my missus sent me to the pool bar for red wine. There, as usual, din and noise. The loudest yelling is a big, fat, heavily tattooed white bearded man in a hat. Seeing me approaching, he waves his hand and shouts: “Mamahuana”!
- No - I say - I was sent for wine.
– No wine! Mamajuana!
Well, one thing is not a hindrance to the other. We drank a thimble.
Where are you from? I ask.
- Boston, Massachusetts. But my father is from Bolivia, so I also speak Spanish. I'm not the first time here, I come to drink Mamajuana. She can't be found anywhere else. Not exported.
Then his loud cry "Mamahuana" was heard constantly and everywhere. On the lobby, on the beach, on the pools. . . He's everywhere. He walks around with a big bottle, yells in a bad voice and pours for everyone.
A separate, bright facet of recreation in the Caribbean is dancing. If you want to get complete satisfaction from the rest - learn to dance. Dancing is everywhere: on the beach, in the pools... My wife and I prepared. They took Latin American dance lessons for two months. Skills were polished on the spot with local animators. As a result, especially under rum, one's own legs did not stumble. They even received encouraging nods from Latinos. And this is worth a lot, they have these salsas, morengas, bochatas and samba in their blood. They dance out of the mother's womb.
And the music. . . We were imbued with respect for Latin American music. Bright, cheerful, sincere, uplifting. It is with us that she is dull, like a landscape outside the window. And if it’s fun, then fun is unnatural, dull, sucked out of your finger.
But nothing lasts forever, not even heaven. It's time to return to the mud and slush. It pulls to say with a stamp: "Two weeks flew by like one day. " But this is wrong - every day was full of cool events from morning until late at night. And a couple of Roma have nothing to do with it. They didn't drink that much. Here the atmosphere is intoxicating.
The flight attendants did not deceive. The same crew delivered them to their motherland, her mother... All tanned no less than ours, and even more satisfied: they rested, and earned money, and these two weeks - flying experience.
There are still plenty of paradises on the planet. Another thing is bad: there is little time left.
