DOMINICAN REPUBLIC - THE ISLAND OF ETERNAL SPRING
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WORDS © MARION FRIEDEL
The Dominican Republic, Haiti’s larger neighbour on the island of Hispaniola, has the most varied landscape in the Greater Antilles. Rain-forests, deserts, rivers, waterfalls, tropical moun-tainsides, fertile valleys and broad savannas. It has the highest mountain, the lowest point (below sea-level) and the longest palm-fringed beaches in the Caribbean. Its capital, Santo Domingo, is the oldest city in the New World.
Steve and Susie order their fourth "Cuba Libre", which can also mean something like "free drink" in Spanish. But the initial glow of their holiday excitement has faded away - like the sun which some time ago sank below the horizon. Steve is bored. And so is Susie in a way. For a week they have been on their dream island, in a dream hotel by a dream beach at an "all-inclusive" dream price. Beaming with delight Susie had given Steve a birthday surprise – last-minute tickets for two weeks in the Dominican Republic. They had to hurry - pack a suitcase, off to the airport and away. When the pilot announced that the flight would take 9 1/2 hours, it gradually dawned on them that their dream island was not somewhere near the Canaries, but where on earth was it?
On 6th August 1492 Christopher Columbus also set off on a journey into the unknown. His mission was to find the fabled Indies, the land of spices, pearls and above all gold, gold, gold. On 6th December 1492 he reached the island called "Haiti," whose beauty impressed him greatly. Like some public-relations man for a tourist office, he wrote in his most flowery Italian, full of superlatives and many detailed observations: "The island rises up out of the sea, and is traversed by mountain ranges whose peaks soar heavenwards, beautiful and diverse in form. All can be climbed and are covered with trees of a thousand different species and shapes, that rise tall and slender...the island is altogether wondrously full of trees, shrubs and fruit. There are groves of pine, meadows, broad savannas, and everything is different from our homeland..." The bird's-eye view from the aircraft window confirms what Columbus saw from the sea. What the sun-starved jet-setters mainly see is a gorgeous blue sea, and lots and lots of golden beaches.
"Bienvenido! Welcome!" By the hundred they are released from air-conditioned planes into the steamy, sultry tropical air and blazing sunlight. Whether arriving at the international airport of Puerto Plata, Punta Cana or Santo Domingo, there will be porters to greet the visitors with genuine enthusiasm. It is true that nowadays they no longer greet newcomers as the Taino tribe of Arawak Indians once approached Columbus, with presents in their hands, shouting "take, take." Instead they "take" you and demand a fee for each suitcase, preferably in US dollars. They are simply taking advantage of the moment of arrival, while they have the chance, since the airport provides them with a rare opportunity to make some money from the tourists outside their hotels. Mass-tourism in the Dominican Republic is a very "exclusive" affair, which means that most of the population scarcely come in contact with the visitors. The often vast hotel complexes are well guarded, luxurious enclaves, closed off from the rest of the world. Most of the guests only meet Dominicans as attractively uniformed employees, waiters with number- and name-badges, page-boys, chamber-maids, gardeners, watchmen, entertainers or sports instructors. They are the country's lucky ones, since one Dominican in three is unemployed. Big international hotel groups, mostly Spanish-owned companies with a lot of experience of Mallorca have, since the late 1980s, turned the Dominican Republic into a booming, all-inclusive charter destination. And "all-inclusive" packages work out particularly cheap here, due to the low wages and locally-produced food, tobacco and drinks like beer and rum. Now the most popular long-haul holiday destination (apart from the USA), it has over two million visitors a year. Like Susie and Steve, most of them spend their holiday in a hotel compound, but it does not take long to learn one's way around and, apart from the new arrivals, there is nothing left to discover.
After the regular daily ritual of a crowded programme, crowded beaches, crowded sea, crowded pools, restaurants, bars and sumptuous buffets, many a guest is gradually overcome by hunger for something different. The combination of boredom and curiosity inspires the audacious notion of escaping the bounds of this paradise. But at the end of the hotel's private property there are warning notices: Caution! You are leaving the protected hotel beach! You may not take towels with you! On the road as well, beyond the barrier which guards the hotel driveway day and night, you are likely to see nothing but a desolate no-man's-land in every direction. Yet in the well-stocked postcard stands of the hotel shop you are tempted by glossy and seductive images: deserted palm beaches, snug little coves, romantic waterfalls and picturesque river valleys. Green savannas, colourful Creole cottages, wooded mountainsides, laughing people, tranquil village life or the colonial magnificence of 16th century Santo Domingo, the first city in the New World. Out there, beyond the tourist enclaves, the Dominican republic is even more full of colour and variety than any picture postcard. It is a land of superlatives, with mountain peaks and deserts below sea-level, steamy and parched regions, wealth and poverty, beauty and its ugly underside - that is the Janus-headed phenomenon of Columbus' isle, "La Española".
efore the arrival of the first Europeans this island was a tropical paradise. Its inhabitants lived simply, but in a land of plenty. They were skilled planters and fishermen, bold seamen and divers. The society of the "first Indians" was unambitious, but was based on a well developed network of relationships and possessed great artistic abilities. The discovery of the New World put an end to the darkness of medieval Europe - and to the existence of these races.
Pottery and rock-drawings are the last mute evidence of the Arawaks and the Caribs. Within just 30 years they had been tragically destroyed by the Spanish, with their greed for gold, their imported diseases and the hitherto unknown scourge of forced labour. The chronicler of this genocide was the priest Bartolomeo Las Casas. This friend of the Indians suggested to the Spanish king that black Africans be brought to the colony from places like Senegal and Gambia. This proved to be a macabre notion. He wanted to protect the copper-skinned islanders from extinction, but had no compunction about condemning their black brothers to the most wretched slavery the world had seen. Of the four million Africans who were dragged from their homeland only 1 1/2 million survived the first years, to be the forefathers of today's black population of the Caribbean. After the first forty years of Spanish rule the "West Indies" were divided up between several European nationalities, much as they are today. The original inhabitants had been virtually wiped out and the islands plundered.
After ten fruitless years the search for gold on La Española was abandoned, and within twenty years the island was just a naval base from which expeditions were launched against the Aztecs and the Incas.
These fleets took unbeleivable wealth in gold and silver from Mexico and South America back to the Spanish motherland. This aroused gold-fever among other European monarchs. First as pirates and then as colonizers, the British, French, Dutch, Swedes and Danes challenged Spain's sole supremacy in the Caribbean. The western part of "La Española", today's Haiti, was captured from the Spanish by the French in 1697, and became France's richest colony. The words "La Perle des Antilles" still appear on car number-plates in this – now poverty-stricken - neighbour of the Dominican Republic.
But rich or poor, this Haitian pride is undiminished, and with good reason. As early as 1804, at a time when colonialism was still flourishing throughout the world, the 450,000 slaves of Haiti sent their French colonial masters packing once and for all. Haiti became the world's first free black republic. Twice the Haitians occupied the Spanish part of the island and once ruled it for 24 years, from 1820 to 1844. The traumatic effect on the Dominicans of this black occupation explains their hate and deep suspicion of the Haitians to this day. On the island of Hispaniola two cultures evolved, which wanted to have nothing to do with each other. The history of both peoples has been chiefly marked by the rule of corrupt and megalomaniac dictators. This extraordinary pattern of cultural, racial, historical and political influences has left its traces over the centuries. Elsewhere in the Caribbean the African heritage is a matter of pride, whereas the Dominicans think of themselves as "white" and feel deeply bound to Spanish civilization. They try to suppress their African heritage, although the overwhelming majority of the 7 1/2 million population are the descendants of intermarriage between Spaniards and African slaves. The original Carib inhabitants, who were quickly exterminated and scarcely left any genealogical traces behind, have been miraculously reincarnated in the official Dominican terminology, which calls any descendant of African slaves an "Indian". Thus someone of mixed mulatto and negro blood is called an indio azul, "blue Indian". A person with one parent of pure white blood and the other three-quarters white qualifies as an indio lavado or "washed Indian." The Haitians are simply "black."
The dark-skinned Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo, probably the most evil and bloodthirsty tyrant in Latin-America, had Haitian origins. The dictator desperately tried to disguise this flaw with skin-lightening make-up. In 1937 the deepest racial hatred led him to order the slaughter of 20,000 Haitians on the frontier river, which is now named "Massacre." His bloody reign of terror lasted from 1930 to 1961. The man who murdered over 100,000 people was not so much a politician as a dedicated businessman who turned the entire Dominican Republic into a private company. Whether it was sugar, cement, tobacco, meat, milk, matches, beer or prostitution - in every market the Trujillo family secured a monopoly.
His wealth grew with the number of his victims who were murdered or imprisoned.
In 1961 he was despatched to eternity in a hail of machine-gun fire - at the instigation of President Kennedy of the USA, it is now assumed. Trujillo's death brought a brief period of democracy to the country. In 1965 the Americans intervened to save the threatened young government. The result of this action was a democracy in name only, under president Joaquin Balaguer, who for decades had been the confidant and speech-writer of the despotic Trujillo. He was backed by big landowners and businessmen who for thirty years had been robbed of most of their profits by the avaricious dictator. This group of "Trujillo's heirs" managed that portion of the "benefactor's" estate which was not sitting in Swiss bank accounts; the private company known as the Dominican republic was thus transferred from the Trujillo clan into the hands of the "30 families," whose servant Balaguer became. The real "Trujillo era" did not end until 1996 under pressure from the United States.
All over the country, in the streets, on bridges, palm trunks, wooden huts and walls, you can still see the colourful party election slogans painted in red, white or purple. All the presidential candidates had put modernization of the broken-down country right at the top of their programme. But most Dominicans still live in wretched wooden shacks, a long way from electricity or water supply.
The regular failure of the electricity supply chiefly affects small households in the towns, companies in Santo Domingo and Puerto Plata, and the industrial zones in the country. Tourists hardly ever notice, since the hotel complexes, like the wealthier inhabitants, have emergency generators. The countryside is also where the education system breaks down due to lack of teachers, because the pay is so bad. Illiteracy is widespread among Dominicans. Every year nearly $2 billion disappears through corruption, according to the former liberal opposition leader, and later president, Leonel Fernández.
lurid yellow one, with dark blue shutters. A pale pink one. A bright blue one. A green one with a yellow veranda and a red one with a mauve veranda. Oddly, the brightly coloured assortment of little houses blends well together. They stand in small gardens with flowering hibiscus and bougainvillea in the all-embracing tropical greenery. If it were not for the new tarmac road running through the village, one might think the clock had stopped here a long time ago. Modern, mobile life rushes in cars and on motor-bikes through the village with its timeless daily routine.
By the roadside, and now on the black asphalt, coffee- and cocoa-beans lie out to dry, just as they have always done. Children play here with a stick and a hoop, a hen pecks the ground with her chickens, a horse grazes beside the road. A neighbour is shaving, two women carry buckets of drinking-water, a girl sells kerosene in small bottles from a wobbly table, the butcher under the mango-tree has got some goat's meat today. On every veranda stands a rocking-chair. At dusk people rock in them - moving, but going nowhere.
The Samaná peninsula has to this day been largely "spared" the blessings of modern life, such as a well-built road network, mains water and electricity, or an international airport. The grey-haired ex-president Balaguer had in fact placed a contract for the construction of an airport big enough for jumbo jets. But either through a planning error or because the money ran out, the runway turned out to be much too short - luckily!
An unsurfaced country road with deep potholes, scattered with fallen coconuts and palm-fronds, runs through a great palm forest, in whose shadow grow cocoa-bushes and banana-palms. The road takes us from the little holiday resort of Las Terrenas to the remote Playa Bonita beach in the west of the Samaná peninsula. The sight of it is almost a cliché, a perfect combination of south-sea romanticism and Caribbean dream: a white beach with swaying palms beside a turquoise-blue, crystal-clear sea. Nothing but a rough, sandy track separates the five small hotels from the gentle surf. Two offshore coral reefs tame the Atlantic swell and shelter the idyllic bay. At its right-hand end the beach is cut off by a small rocky promontory from the Playa Contura, while to the left you can walk through a virgin palm-forest and on emerging you will scarcely believe your eyes: a bay 11 km (7 miles) wide, green wooded hills, a white palm-fringed beach - a hazy splendour of sun, sea and wind.
"Se vende," "Paradise Invest" - the estate agents have already nailed their sign-boards to the palm trunks. But so far most of the natural beauty, the lonely bays and picture-book beaches of the peninsula have not been developed and can only be reached by almost impassible tracks, in jeeps, on motorbikes, on foot or horseback, or else by boat. Samaná is to this day a holiday place for individualists seeking peace and seclusion, and a favourite destination for people on one- or two-day excursions from the tourist strongholds. During the day it can get quite crowded on the so-called "Bacardi Island", Cayo Levantado, as well as for the whales in the Bay of Samaná. Every year, from December to March, hundreds of hump-backed whales still arrive in the clean, crystal-clear waters of the Bay of Samaná to mate, calve and raise their young. It is one of the most breathtaking events in the natural world, when the "gentle giants of Samaná" catapult their bodies, weighing up to 65 tons and measuring 16m (50ft), almost vertically out of the sea, and then with a mighty splash disappear into their element again. This natural spectacle is now threatened by the steadily growing number of boats and whale-watchers. The sensitive creatures feel more and more disturbed, and are withdrawing to the Silver Banks area,
which in 1986 was declared the world's first whale
protection zone.
ust let your spirit roam free. Your body lies on the fine sand. It is washed by the gentle rhythm of the waves, to the music of the cicadas and the wind in the palms. A few miles away along the beach, a little river of cool fresh water winds its way down to the sea. Balancing on two swaying palm-trunks, you can cross the river dryshod and reach the little "rum hut" of woven palm-fronds.
"Barceló", "Bermúdez" and "Brugal" are the rum firms of the Dominican republic. There is hardly an island in the Caribbean that does not distil its own typical rum. Originally a rough, impure, high-proof "rot-gut" spirit, which comforted slaves and servants, and intoxicated pirates and freebooters, it has developed into three styles: white rum (dry), light rum (mild and with some of the delicacy and full body of a rare cognac) and dark rum (strong). A good rum should have matured for five to ten years in oak casks. The top brands are of the highest refinement - a pure delight to drink. The 19th century German poet Heinrich Heine thought very highly of this divine beverage and wrote: "Die Göttin hat mir Tee gekocht - und Rum hineingegossen; sie selber aber hat den Rum - ganz ohne Tee genossen." ("The goddess made some tea for me - and with fine rum she flavoured it. But she herself drank rum alone - without the tea she savoured it."
Steve and Susie are sitting on shaky wooden chairs at a tilting table, with two glasses, a bottle of golden rum, ice-cubes and small slices of lemon. Neat rum, with a little ice and lemon, is now how they like it, as do most Dominicans as well, and every rum is true to the Caribbean saying: "One makes you sour, two make you sweet, three make you strong, four make you weak."
Their two-day excursion, a crowning climax to their holiday, is coming to an end. If they take a last look from their rum-booth, their gaze sweeping across the long deserted beach, they will see a land of dreams, an unspoilt paradise, the place they will return to on their next holiday - nothing more.
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC - THE ISLAND OF ETERNAL SPRING
WORDS © MARION FRIEDEL
WORDS © MARION FRIEDEL
The Dominican Republic, Haiti’s larger neighbour on the island of Hispaniola, has the most varied landscape in the Greater Antilles. Rain-forests, deserts, rivers, waterfalls, tropical moun-tainsides, fertile valleys and broad savannas. It has the highest mountain, the lowest point (below sea-level) and the longest palm-fringed beaches in the Caribbean. Its capital, Santo Domingo, is the oldest city in the New World.
Steve and Susie order their fourth "Cuba Libre", which can also mean something like "free drink" in Spanish. But the initial glow of their holiday excitement has faded away - like the sun which some time ago sank below the horizon. Steve is bored. And so is Susie in a way. For a week they have been on their dream island, in a dream hotel by a dream beach at an "all-inclusive" dream price. Beaming with delight Susie had given Steve a birthday surprise – last-minute tickets for two weeks in the Dominican Republic. They had to hurry - pack a suitcase, off to the airport and away. When the pilot announced that the flight would take 9 1/2 hours, it gradually dawned on them that their dream island was not somewhere near the Canaries, but where on earth was it?
On 6th August 1492 Christopher Columbus also set off on a journey into the unknown. His mission was to find the fabled Indies, the land of spices, pearls and above all gold, gold, gold. On 6th December 1492 he reached the island called "Haiti," whose beauty impressed him greatly. Like some public-relations man for a tourist office, he wrote in his most flowery Italian, full of superlatives and many detailed observations: "The island rises up out of the sea, and is traversed by mountain ranges whose peaks soar heavenwards, beautiful and diverse in form. All can be climbed and are covered with trees of a thousand different species and shapes, that rise tall and slender...the island is altogether wondrously full of trees, shrubs and fruit. There are groves of pine, meadows, broad savannas, and everything is different from our homeland..." The bird's-eye view from the aircraft window confirms what Columbus saw from the sea. What the sun-starved jet-setters mainly see is a gorgeous blue sea, and lots and lots of golden beaches.
"Bienvenido! Welcome!" By the hundred they are released from air-conditioned planes into the steamy, sultry tropical air and blazing sunlight. Whether arriving at the international airport of Puerto Plata, Punta Cana or Santo Domingo, there will be porters to greet the visitors with genuine enthusiasm. It is true that nowadays they no longer greet newcomers as the Taino tribe of Arawak Indians once approached Columbus, with presents in their hands, shouting "take, take." Instead they "take" you and demand a fee for each suitcase, preferably in US dollars. They are simply taking advantage of the moment of arrival, while they have the chance, since the airport provides them with a rare opportunity to make some money from the tourists outside their hotels. Mass-tourism in the Dominican Republic is a very "exclusive" affair, which means that most of the population scarcely come in contact with the visitors. The often vast hotel complexes are well guarded, luxurious enclaves, closed off from the rest of the world. Most of the guests only meet Dominicans as attractively uniformed employees, waiters with number- and name-badges, page-boys, chamber-maids, gardeners, watchmen, entertainers or sports instructors. They are the country's lucky ones, since one Dominican in three is unemployed. Big international hotel groups, mostly Spanish-owned companies with a lot of experience of Mallorca have, since the late 1980s, turned the Dominican Republic into a booming, all-inclusive charter destination. And "all-inclusive" packages work out particularly cheap here, due to the low wages and locally-produced food, tobacco and drinks like beer and rum. Now the most popular long-haul holiday destination (apart from the USA), it has over two million visitors a year. Like Susie and Steve, most of them spend their holiday in a hotel compound, but it does not take long to learn one's way around and, apart from the new arrivals, there is nothing left to discover.
After the regular daily ritual of a crowded programme, crowded beaches, crowded sea, crowded pools, restaurants, bars and sumptuous buffets, many a guest is gradually overcome by hunger for something different. The combination of boredom and curiosity inspires the audacious notion of escaping the bounds of this paradise. But at the end of the hotel's private property there are warning notices: Caution! You are leaving the protected hotel beach! You may not take towels with you! On the road as well, beyond the barrier which guards the hotel driveway day and night, you are likely to see nothing but a desolate no-man's-land in every direction. Yet in the well-stocked postcard stands of the hotel shop you are tempted by glossy and seductive images: deserted palm beaches, snug little coves, romantic waterfalls and picturesque river valleys. Green savannas, colourful Creole cottages, wooded mountainsides, laughing people, tranquil village life or the colonial magnificence of 16th century Santo Domingo, the first city in the New World. Out there, beyond the tourist enclaves, the Dominican republic is even more full of colour and variety than any picture postcard. It is a land of superlatives, with mountain peaks and deserts below sea-level, steamy and parched regions, wealth and poverty, beauty and its ugly underside - that is the Janus-headed phenomenon of Columbus' isle, "La Española".
efore the arrival of the first Europeans this island was a tropical paradise. Its inhabitants lived simply, but in a land of plenty. They were skilled planters and fishermen, bold seamen and divers. The society of the "first Indians" was unambitious, but was based on a well developed network of relationships and possessed great artistic abilities. The discovery of the New World put an end to the darkness of medieval Europe - and to the existence of these races.
Pottery and rock-drawings are the last mute evidence of the Arawaks and the Caribs. Within just 30 years they had been tragically destroyed by the Spanish, with their greed for gold, their imported diseases and the hitherto unknown scourge of forced labour. The chronicler of this genocide was the priest Bartolomeo Las Casas. This friend of the Indians suggested to the Spanish king that black Africans be brought to the colony from places like Senegal and Gambia. This proved to be a macabre notion. He wanted to protect the copper-skinned islanders from extinction, but had no compunction about condemning their black brothers to the most wretched slavery the world had seen. Of the four million Africans who were dragged from their homeland only 1 1/2 million survived the first years, to be the forefathers of today's black population of the Caribbean. After the first forty years of Spanish rule the "West Indies" were divided up between several European nationalities, much as they are today. The original inhabitants had been virtually wiped out and the islands plundered.
After ten fruitless years the search for gold on La Española was abandoned, and within twenty years the island was just a naval base from which expeditions were launched against the Aztecs and the Incas.
These fleets took unbeleivable wealth in gold and silver from Mexico and South America back to the Spanish motherland. This aroused gold-fever among other European monarchs. First as pirates and then as colonizers, the British, French, Dutch, Swedes and Danes challenged Spain's sole supremacy in the Caribbean. The western part of "La Española", today's Haiti, was captured from the Spanish by the French in 1697, and became France's richest colony. The words "La Perle des Antilles" still appear on car number-plates in this – now poverty-stricken - neighbour of the Dominican Republic.
But rich or poor, this Haitian pride is undiminished, and with good reason. As early as 1804, at a time when colonialism was still flourishing throughout the world, the 450,000 slaves of Haiti sent their French colonial masters packing once and for all. Haiti became the world's first free black republic. Twice the Haitians occupied the Spanish part of the island and once ruled it for 24 years, from 1820 to 1844. The traumatic effect on the Dominicans of this black occupation explains their hate and deep suspicion of the Haitians to this day. On the island of Hispaniola two cultures evolved, which wanted to have nothing to do with each other. The history of both peoples has been chiefly marked by the rule of corrupt and megalomaniac dictators. This extraordinary pattern of cultural, racial, historical and political influences has left its traces over the centuries. Elsewhere in the Caribbean the African heritage is a matter of pride, whereas the Dominicans think of themselves as "white" and feel deeply bound to Spanish civilization. They try to suppress their African heritage, although the overwhelming majority of the 7 1/2 million population are the descendants of intermarriage between Spaniards and African slaves. The original Carib inhabitants, who were quickly exterminated and scarcely left any genealogical traces behind, have been miraculously reincarnated in the official Dominican terminology, which calls any descendant of African slaves an "Indian". Thus someone of mixed mulatto and negro blood is called an indio azul, "blue Indian". A person with one parent of pure white blood and the other three-quarters white qualifies as an indio lavado or "washed Indian." The Haitians are simply "black."
The dark-skinned Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo, probably the most evil and bloodthirsty tyrant in Latin-America, had Haitian origins. The dictator desperately tried to disguise this flaw with skin-lightening make-up. In 1937 the deepest racial hatred led him to order the slaughter of 20,000 Haitians on the frontier river, which is now named "Massacre." His bloody reign of terror lasted from 1930 to 1961. The man who murdered over 100,000 people was not so much a politician as a dedicated businessman who turned the entire Dominican Republic into a private company. Whether it was sugar, cement, tobacco, meat, milk, matches, beer or prostitution - in every market the Trujillo family secured a monopoly.
His wealth grew with the number of his victims who were murdered or imprisoned.
In 1961 he was despatched to eternity in a hail of machine-gun fire - at the instigation of President Kennedy of the USA, it is now assumed. Trujillo's death brought a brief period of democracy to the country. In 1965 the Americans intervened to save the threatened young government. The result of this action was a democracy in name only, under president Joaquin Balaguer, who for decades had been the confidant and speech-writer of the despotic Trujillo. He was backed by big landowners and businessmen who for thirty years had been robbed of most of their profits by the avaricious dictator. This group of "Trujillo's heirs" managed that portion of the "benefactor's" estate which was not sitting in Swiss bank accounts; the private company known as the Dominican republic was thus transferred from the Trujillo clan into the hands of the "30 families," whose servant Balaguer became. The real "Trujillo era" did not end until 1996 under pressure from the United States.
All over the country, in the streets, on bridges, palm trunks, wooden huts and walls, you can still see the colourful party election slogans painted in red, white or purple. All the presidential candidates had put modernization of the broken-down country right at the top of their programme. But most Dominicans still live in wretched wooden shacks, a long way from electricity or water supply.
The regular failure of the electricity supply chiefly affects small households in the towns, companies in Santo Domingo and Puerto Plata, and the industrial zones in the country. Tourists hardly ever notice, since the hotel complexes, like the wealthier inhabitants, have emergency generators. The countryside is also where the education system breaks down due to lack of teachers, because the pay is so bad. Illiteracy is widespread among Dominicans. Every year nearly $2 billion disappears through corruption, according to the former liberal opposition leader, and later president, Leonel Fernández.
lurid yellow one, with dark blue shutters. A pale pink one. A bright blue one. A green one with a yellow veranda and a red one with a mauve veranda. Oddly, the brightly coloured assortment of little houses blends well together. They stand in small gardens with flowering hibiscus and bougainvillea in the all-embracing tropical greenery. If it were not for the new tarmac road running through the village, one might think the clock had stopped here a long time ago. Modern, mobile life rushes in cars and on motor-bikes through the village with its timeless daily routine.
By the roadside, and now on the black asphalt, coffee- and cocoa-beans lie out to dry, just as they have always done. Children play here with a stick and a hoop, a hen pecks the ground with her chickens, a horse grazes beside the road. A neighbour is shaving, two women carry buckets of drinking-water, a girl sells kerosene in small bottles from a wobbly table, the butcher under the mango-tree has got some goat's meat today. On every veranda stands a rocking-chair. At dusk people rock in them - moving, but going nowhere.
The Samaná peninsula has to this day been largely "spared" the blessings of modern life, such as a well-built road network, mains water and electricity, or an international airport. The grey-haired ex-president Balaguer had in fact placed a contract for the construction of an airport big enough for jumbo jets. But either through a planning error or because the money ran out, the runway turned out to be much too short - luckily!
An unsurfaced country road with deep potholes, scattered with fallen coconuts and palm-fronds, runs through a great palm forest, in whose shadow grow cocoa-bushes and banana-palms. The road takes us from the little holiday resort of Las Terrenas to the remote Playa Bonita beach in the west of the Samaná peninsula. The sight of it is almost a cliché, a perfect combination of south-sea romanticism and Caribbean dream: a white beach with swaying palms beside a turquoise-blue, crystal-clear sea. Nothing but a rough, sandy track separates the five small hotels from the gentle surf. Two offshore coral reefs tame the Atlantic swell and shelter the idyllic bay. At its right-hand end the beach is cut off by a small rocky promontory from the Playa Contura, while to the left you can walk through a virgin palm-forest and on emerging you will scarcely believe your eyes: a bay 11 km (7 miles) wide, green wooded hills, a white palm-fringed beach - a hazy splendour of sun, sea and wind.
"Se vende," "Paradise Invest" - the estate agents have already nailed their sign-boards to the palm trunks. But so far most of the natural beauty, the lonely bays and picture-book beaches of the peninsula have not been developed and can only be reached by almost impassible tracks, in jeeps, on motorbikes, on foot or horseback, or else by boat. Samaná is to this day a holiday place for individualists seeking peace and seclusion, and a favourite destination for people on one- or two-day excursions from the tourist strongholds. During the day it can get quite crowded on the so-called "Bacardi Island", Cayo Levantado, as well as for the whales in the Bay of Samaná. Every year, from December to March, hundreds of hump-backed whales still arrive in the clean, crystal-clear waters of the Bay of Samaná to mate, calve and raise their young. It is one of the most breathtaking events in the natural world, when the "gentle giants of Samaná" catapult their bodies, weighing up to 65 tons and measuring 16m (50ft), almost vertically out of the sea, and then with a mighty splash disappear into their element again. This natural spectacle is now threatened by the steadily growing number of boats and whale-watchers. The sensitive creatures feel more and more disturbed, and are withdrawing to the Silver Banks area,
which in 1986 was declared the world's first whale
protection zone.
ust let your spirit roam free. Your body lies on the fine sand. It is washed by the gentle rhythm of the waves, to the music of the cicadas and the wind in the palms. A few miles away along the beach, a little river of cool fresh water winds its way down to the sea. Balancing on two swaying palm-trunks, you can cross the river dryshod and reach the little "rum hut" of woven palm-fronds.
"Barceló", "Bermúdez" and "Brugal" are the rum firms of the Dominican republic. There is hardly an island in the Caribbean that does not distil its own typical rum. Originally a rough, impure, high-proof "rot-gut" spirit, which comforted slaves and servants, and intoxicated pirates and freebooters, it has developed into three styles: white rum (dry), light rum (mild and with some of the delicacy and full body of a rare cognac) and dark rum (strong). A good rum should have matured for five to ten years in oak casks. The top brands are of the highest refinement - a pure delight to drink. The 19th century German poet Heinrich Heine thought very highly of this divine beverage and wrote: "Die Göttin hat mir Tee gekocht - und Rum hineingegossen; sie selber aber hat den Rum - ganz ohne Tee genossen." ("The goddess made some tea for me - and with fine rum she flavoured it. But she herself drank rum alone - without the tea she savoured it."
Steve and Susie are sitting on shaky wooden chairs at a tilting table, with two glasses, a bottle of golden rum, ice-cubes and small slices of lemon. Neat rum, with a little ice and lemon, is now how they like it, as do most Dominicans as well, and every rum is true to the Caribbean saying: "One makes you sour, two make you sweet, three make you strong, four make you weak."
Their two-day excursion, a crowning climax to their holiday, is coming to an end. If they take a last look from their rum-booth, their gaze sweeping across the long deserted beach, they will see a land of dreams, an unspoilt paradise, the place they will return to on their next holiday - nothing more.
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC - THE ISLAND OF ETERNAL SPRING
WORDS © MARION FRIEDEL