Urban Thought Collective

I was getting cabin fever to the fullest, so I decided not to cancel the trip to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic after all. I had no idea my knee surgery would be this severe, nor did I know that the rehab would be so lengthy. So while I didn’t turn the town upside down like I might’ve on two good legs, I did a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’. (For best results, cue up the Latino-Salsa channel on AOL radio and listen while you read the rest of this).

Thursday, September 18, 2008
The little airport just outside of Santo Domingo was a welcome sight as me and all of my lankiness were quite eager to not be all cooped up any longer. With the cool gait of an old preacher (maybe not your current pastor, but your pastor’s daddy, the one that still comes to church sometimes, but he let junior take the wheel years ago), I strolled off the plane with my carry-on. “Estas bien? Necesita ayuda, senor?,” said one of the guys working for the airline that was waiting with a wheel chair on the jetway just outside the plane. I politely declined although the thought of being wheeled through immigration sounded a whole lot better than playing tortoise to everyone else’s hare as they sped by me. First impression: just like any other 3rd world, Latin American country, the disproportionately beautiful senoritas are always in the good, customer facing jobs. This time it was the girl at the currency exchange window. WOW! It was funny because I was talking to a friend that arrived on a separate flight the previous day and he said the same thing about her. It wouldn’t stop there.

My taxi driver Maico gave me the rundown on things as we rode the 35 minutes from the airport to the Renaissance Jaragua Hotel and Casino, along a beautiful, coast side stretch of highway. As is customary in many of these places, he explained that I should either catch taxis at the hotel or call him (as he handed me a card) in lieu of just trusting somebody that might not be a certified driver. As I mentioned before, walking is not exactly one of my favorite things to do these days, so my big event of the evening would be dinner. What a letdown. Listening to the concierge (that preferred to speak with me in English…I shoulda known), I ended up at the tourist spot in Zona Colonial. It looked great. There were several restaurants side by side with outdoor dining set on a plot of cobblestones next to a plaza with what looked like another shrine to good ol’ Cristobal Colon. Again, the normal Destah would’ve explored for a closer look, but…. Pat’ e Palo, “at the oldest tavern of the Americas…est. 1505,” looked great. This placed oozed colonial Spanish atmosphere and reminded me of spots I had seen on the cobblestone streets of San Juan Viejo. Had the food been better, I would’ve cut them some slack for making me walk up the steps into the bar area, and then up some more very narrow, cobblestone steps. For the rest of the trip, I’m mom and pop’n it. Strictly hole in the walls.

Friday September 19, 2008
I forgot to mention the 5 star people watching that made my 2 star food go down easier last night. After doing my rehab exercises and icing a couple times, I strolled on over to El Manolo restaurant just outside the back gates of the hotel’s grounds. I don’t think it had any indoor seating. It was almost all patio and the staff was very courteous. It’s always 90 degrees in this place, even when it rains, so sitting outside with a breeze is just fine. The food here was MUCH better and I would eat here 2 more times throughout my 5 days. It was here that I would get my first taste of typical Dominican food and the heavenly stew called Sancocho. It tastes like there might be some cumin, and maybe some oregano and cilantro to go along with the big chunks of beef neckbones, some plantains and yucca all boiled to tasty perfection.

Just a day and a half removed from finishing my narcotics pain-killer prescription, I decided to see what the big deal was about the local cerveza “el Presidente” and grab a seat in the casino for my evening’s entertainment. While people watching tip #1 might be to warm up your neck so you don’t injure yourself checking the constant influx of head-turners, tip #2 might be the prostitution is alive and well in a big way.

Saturday September 20, 2008
I decided to take my ice bags out by the pool and sip on something fruity while Bob Marley rang out through the speakers at the poolside bar and I took in the view of the Caribbean Sea. Again, not a lot going on in the way of sightseeing, but this R&R is just fine with me and my knee. I took my tips from the working class folks on this day and was led to El Conuco for a fabulous lunch a few blocks away, tucked into a residential neighborhood and the Dominican version of Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles called Adrian Tropical for dinner. (No, there weren’t any chicken and waffles, but it was clearly the after hours kick it n’ eat spot). The steamed snapper in Creole sauce at Adrian Tropical was absolutely divine as it fell off the bone so delicately. My biggest challenge at these places was not ordering one of everything on the menu because it was all so good.

People watching tip #3: It’s not like the States. Even dudes named Stanley or Sheldon, lookin’ like Bookman or Steve Erkel, get to have an absolute stunner on their arm. It’s un-flippin’-believable.

Sunday September 21, 2008
I can’t go to an island without going to the beach, but this presented a unique problem. One of my rules is to never rent a car in another country where there seem to be no driving laws. However, it would’ve been $40 or $50 each way to the beach, so I had to bite the bullet. I’ll have to elaborate in the comments, but suffice it to say that it was just what the doctor ordered.

Monday September 22, 2008
My itinerary forced me to have a layover from 3:45pm Monday until 7:45am on Tuesday…in Miami. Woe is me! My cousin has a condo in South Beach so she picked me up on the way to a couple of her meetings. You have no idea (or maybe you do) how lovely it is to have one meeting at Sushi Samba at the Lincoln Road pedestrian mall while sipping on something called a Yamanja (sent compliments of her homeboy who is the manager) and then follow it up with SEVERAL lido lemonades poolside at The Standard while event planning with somebody named Julie Goodboobs (not her real name, but that’s what my cousin has her in her phone as).

Destah Owens is a single father of two from Northern California and proud UCLA Bruin who travels the world for his job as a computer engineer. His blog, “Soufflés in Saigon,” is exclusive to Urban Thought Collective.