Dominican - Feb. 4, '07

We woke up the next morning bright and early, prepared to make our way to Bonao – the location where we thought the competition was being held. We talked to a cab driver (who’s vehicle was more like a limo-style sedan), and his rate for taking us to Bonao seemed very reasonable. We got in the car, and felt quite dignified being in a VIP-like car on our way to the comp.

We got to Bonao, and could not find the hotel where we were supposed to stay. Not being prepared as I should have been, I only had the name and telephone number of the hotel, but no directions or address. The cabby called the hotel, which told him they were actually located closer to the town of Jarabacoa – another $50 cab ride away! Jens and I, not knowing Spanish well, or where the hell we were for that matter, reluctantly agreed for the cab driver to drive us to the true location of the hotel.

We arrived at the hotel to the stares from pilots who had already arrived, and were sitting on the grass. They must of thought it was my idea to get a limo ride to the comp! The total of our cab ride cost us more than we intended, but at least it was a convenient and luxurious ride.

The hotel…well, I hate to say it, but it was much to be desired. They put me up in a little apartment in a building that was divided into 4 units or so. It literally had a bedroom with a single bed that reeked of mould, a bathroom with the shittiest lighting ever and a curtain rod that kept falling, and a kitchen whose amenities included rock hard chairs set at the ultra-comfortable angle of 90 degrees. What a shithole.

Coming from a 4 star hotel, admittedly, this was a lot to digest. I then soon discovered that Jens was put up in a very nice fully furnished house, while most of us were expected to live in sub-standard living conditions. Jealousy is unhealthy, but I’m human – seeing someone else have so much more than you was hard.

I got back to the dump I was expected to call home, when I noticed that the place didn’t lock. Being female, and by myself, this made me nervous, so I talked to the office, and asked that they at least put a lock on the place. After many Dominican minutes, they sent one of their workers over to do the installation.

I’m not crazy about bringing up the events that transpired when the worker arrived, but I won’t break the candidness of my postings and will tell it as it is; the worker who’s job was to simply replace the lock was a horny, disgusting, pig who had no respect for women. While installing the new lock and talking in Spanish (which coincidentally, my knowledge is extremely limited), he motioned to the bedroom, and was just short of saying he wanted to have sex with me (I didn’t hear that exact word in his dialogue). Rubbing your body, pointing at the shower and to the person infront of you is pretty universal too – how appalling…

I’m not normally one who allows myself to get worked up about most things, and over the years I’ve put up with a lot from men – a lot. I guess that’s where my cynicism comes from…but I try to forgive, and acknowledge that raging hormones often get in the way of sensibility. But for the first time, here was a guy who made me feel extremely uncomfortable, especially knowing he had the other key to the lock he just installed. Long story short, I told the office what happened, and it was agreed that I could stay in Jen’s palace, as there was a spare bedroom anyway. What a relief that was!

Here’s a picture of a frog Jens caught in the dining room that night. We should have had the French over for dinner. KIDDING!!!


I don’t really remember the rest of that night, but I know I had dinner and managed to meet up with the rest of the Canadians. It was good seeing that everyone had arrived safely.