Take a walk with me down a street that has seen me ambling down it so many times in the past. The people here call this barrio, or neighborhood, Cristo Rey. My shirt sticks to my back too…it’s the enfeebling combination of heat and humidity. You’ll get used to it. Let’s get moving.
Don’t let the noise alarm you, here in Santo Domingo drivers lean on the horn. They honk when they speed up, they toot when they slow down, and they beep when they turn corners. Small engine motorcycles, just a step above mopeds, zip in between cars on the jammed street. On the street level, soot and dirt cake the buildings, only allowing a smidgen of the once bright colors to bleed through the filth. Lift your eyes to the second level of the buildings and they reveal their intended colors: sky blue, hot pink, bright yellow, any color that both attracts and repels the eyes at the same time.
This street, Calle Trujillo, cuts through the city drawing a line between the various barrios of Santo Domingo. Most corners house music stores. Of course in this part of the world a man with a dual cassette tape recorder and a pile of pirated audio tapes constitutes a music store. They lounge on empty crates with audio tapes mounted on a piece of plywood behind them. Music down here plays from every doorway. Different music but the same sound: meringue. Horns play in staccato unison, and the voices of everyone’s favorite merenguitos (that would be people who sing meringue) battle for sound wave supremacy.
Let’s head down the street. The pharmacy to the left smells if lilac powder and a scent that Elizabeth Arden calls “Sunflowers”. The owner doesn’t sell the perfume; he just employs it to pull people in off of the street. How Elizabeth Arden managed to jam sunshine in a diffuser, I will never know. Pharmacies down here carry more than aspirin, toiletries, and Alka-Seltzer. Here pharmacies also offer bolts of bright cloth, machetes, books, 5 gallon bottles of water, Malta India, and anything else that you will ever need to buy.
What’s Malta India you ask? Ah…Malta, the magical (non-alcoholic) elixir brewed by beer companies for the discriminating South American palate. Malta gives a thick taste, like a very dark beer, then follows up that heavy flavor with a sweet molasses aftertaste. Put down 8 chilled ounces on a 95 degree day, and the magic comes to life.
Ahhh…Malta…
Grab a Malta and cruise towards the limpia botas: a group of young boys with shoe shine boxes. Put a foot on the box and let the boy apply dark polish to the shoe. The rich smell of the polish intoxicates, and the feel of the rub removes the walking sores. If it’s an older boy he may work so vigorously that you get a foot massage along with a shoe shine.
Go past some of the street vendors and see what fries in their vats today. Most likely you will find smashed green plantains, fried like thick potato chips. Or you may find empañadas with some sort of mystery meat tucked inside (have you seen your favorite stray dog today?) On a good day you can smell the mondongo: a much better application of tripe. The tube meat fries in fat, writhing around with the heat and popping with the oil. Find a vendor that you trust and pick up a little something to eat. Will you try the salted plantain, roll the dice on the empanada, or go for the big prize. I promise that mondongo’s soft texture will treat you right, just watch out for the bitter aftertaste. If you don’t like liver, then I don’t recommend it.
At the end of the street we reach our destination: Helados Bon. Come on in from the furnace of the street and get some ice cream. Here you choose from both flavors: vanilla and chocolate. The appeal of this spot does not necessarily include a wafer cone. No, stand here for just a second and wait for the shiver. It takes a concentration of frigid air to keep the ice from turning into soup in the Caribbean. Choose whatever flavor you like…I’m buying.
Don’t let the noise alarm you, here in Santo Domingo drivers lean on the horn. They honk when they speed up, they toot when they slow down, and they beep when they turn corners. Small engine motorcycles, just a step above mopeds, zip in between cars on the jammed street. On the street level, soot and dirt cake the buildings, only allowing a smidgen of the once bright colors to bleed through the filth. Lift your eyes to the second level of the buildings and they reveal their intended colors: sky blue, hot pink, bright yellow, any color that both attracts and repels the eyes at the same time.
This street, Calle Trujillo, cuts through the city drawing a line between the various barrios of Santo Domingo. Most corners house music stores. Of course in this part of the world a man with a dual cassette tape recorder and a pile of pirated audio tapes constitutes a music store. They lounge on empty crates with audio tapes mounted on a piece of plywood behind them. Music down here plays from every doorway. Different music but the same sound: meringue. Horns play in staccato unison, and the voices of everyone’s favorite merenguitos (that would be people who sing meringue) battle for sound wave supremacy.
Let’s head down the street. The pharmacy to the left smells if lilac powder and a scent that Elizabeth Arden calls “Sunflowers”. The owner doesn’t sell the perfume; he just employs it to pull people in off of the street. How Elizabeth Arden managed to jam sunshine in a diffuser, I will never know. Pharmacies down here carry more than aspirin, toiletries, and Alka-Seltzer. Here pharmacies also offer bolts of bright cloth, machetes, books, 5 gallon bottles of water, Malta India, and anything else that you will ever need to buy.
What’s Malta India you ask? Ah…Malta, the magical (non-alcoholic) elixir brewed by beer companies for the discriminating South American palate. Malta gives a thick taste, like a very dark beer, then follows up that heavy flavor with a sweet molasses aftertaste. Put down 8 chilled ounces on a 95 degree day, and the magic comes to life.
Ahhh…Malta…
Grab a Malta and cruise towards the limpia botas: a group of young boys with shoe shine boxes. Put a foot on the box and let the boy apply dark polish to the shoe. The rich smell of the polish intoxicates, and the feel of the rub removes the walking sores. If it’s an older boy he may work so vigorously that you get a foot massage along with a shoe shine.
Go past some of the street vendors and see what fries in their vats today. Most likely you will find smashed green plantains, fried like thick potato chips. Or you may find empañadas with some sort of mystery meat tucked inside (have you seen your favorite stray dog today?) On a good day you can smell the mondongo: a much better application of tripe. The tube meat fries in fat, writhing around with the heat and popping with the oil. Find a vendor that you trust and pick up a little something to eat. Will you try the salted plantain, roll the dice on the empanada, or go for the big prize. I promise that mondongo’s soft texture will treat you right, just watch out for the bitter aftertaste. If you don’t like liver, then I don’t recommend it.
At the end of the street we reach our destination: Helados Bon. Come on in from the furnace of the street and get some ice cream. Here you choose from both flavors: vanilla and chocolate. The appeal of this spot does not necessarily include a wafer cone. No, stand here for just a second and wait for the shiver. It takes a concentration of frigid air to keep the ice from turning into soup in the Caribbean. Choose whatever flavor you like…I’m buying.
1 comment:
I can almost hear and smell the "city". You have a very good command of your craft. Ever thought of publishing a book?
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