My second visitor from the states came in this week! I know, I know, I am this far in, and I’ve only had TWO visitors. Clearly, they are the wisest of souls because they’ve seen the opportunity for a tropical vacation on the budget of a PCV and have seized it!
Shannon and I began her trip on Monday. Her flight arrived in the middle of the day, so I decide to throw her immediately into the life of a volunteer via PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. She’s a total champ having lived for a bit in Africa, so I figured no big deal.
I was right. Transport = no problem. We took a bus out to the highway for 60 pesos, walked a stretch on a feeder road and flagged another bus for 30 pesos to Juan Dolio (which, by the way, is so much more of a calmer scene than tourist favorite Boca Chica). And the hotel cost 500 pesos (RD) a night – it’s a little kitschy with the over zealous bohemian decorations of the owner, but it’s a short walk to food and beach areas! Perfect.
So where was there a problem? (You knew something would come up… I mean, traveling in a developing country… not exactly a cake walk)
Shannon arrived.
Her bag and sleeping bag did not.
Shannon had somehow gotten the lady behind the baggage counter to understand her situation. Without Spanish, it was a long struggle but again Shannon = CHAMP.
One arrived when we were in Juan Dolio but calling the number given to us by the airport was a general menu that did not include bag services. The number on the Santo Domingo airport’s Web site was, of course, a cell phone number to a woman who had a hard time remembering that she even did at the place let alone how to help us.
You see her clothes merited trying to figure out how to get back there quickly. The sleeping bag (which was brought for me), however, did not. And no one could tell us which had arrived!
So Wednesday morning we got up. Took the 30 peso bus and then (somewhat inadvertently) walked 30 minutes to the airport.
Upon arrival: coffee and water.
After about a 30 minute does-anyone-really-work-here scavenger hunt for the correct office, we stood outside of the airline’s lost baggage locker.
“It’s the sleeping bad,” she exhaled.
Then a gut-dropping pause. Shannon turns her head and walks slowly over to the other wall of the room.
“Wait, this is it!”
Thankfully the bag count was also a committed error. I guess it’s like everything else here… works out eventually but in the most round about, crazy way.
More to come about our trip in the next couple of days…
I’m glad she got to come. I know she enjoyed it!