Hope and Bill's Dominican Adventure January 2009: Day 5

For as eye-opening as Day 4 was on the Outback Safari, it paled in comparison to our day out and about with our new friend Jose, who we were introduced to by my friend Christie. Bill and I were joined by another couple as we took a tour around town that most people probably wouldn't take. The things I wanted to check out included the richest and poorest areas of town, the street prostitutes, and a dance club.

If you recall, I mentioned in Day 4 how the tourism industry, despite providing the greatest number of jobs and contributing more money to the economy than any other single industry in RD, also has a shady underside. First off, it's necessary to have a population of people who are willing to work for mere pittance, which requires a low level of education and intense private entrepreneurship we are very unaccustomed to here (everyone who was annoyed by the cheapie cheapie vendors on the beach will attest to the high-pressure sales tactics used.) It is also very competitive, with top-paying jobs in the industry requiring you to speak a minimum of three languages fluently; if you speak five, you will bump the guy beside you with two years of college who only speaks three even if you can't add two and two.

Jose works for a tourism company in the DR. He speaks English and Spanish, and is planning on taking French in March when the off-season begins so he can move up in the company. He has 3 children to support, and his entire family plays a part in helping to raise the boys, aged 3, 4, and 8, as the mother of his children decided to take off two years ago and hasn't been seen since. As a favour to our mutual friend Christie, he agreed to rent a car for the day and take Bill and I out on the town. Having never met him in person and not knowing what kind of car he had rented, we obviously couldn't have recognized him on sight. However, we had agreed to meet at the front gates, and as we were walking along several cabs stopped to offer us a ride. You see, you can take any ride you want BACK to the hotel, but if you are leaving hotel property, there are select drivers who have a contract with the hotel.

Jose called as we were standing roadside and said, "I'm in a black Camry..." so we were on the lookout for a man in a black Camry. When the next cab - a big white van - stopped, I was getting a little exasperated, and when the guy slowed down I kind of sarcastically said, "No, we're waiting for Jose, are you Jose?" Well, OK - if I said Rick or Steve or John here in Canada I might have had the same problem but wouldn't you know it, the pinhead's name was Jose... whom we'll refer to hereafter as Pinhead. Just as I was trying to explain that no, we're waiting for our friend Jose, the Camry pulls up. We go to jump in and this PINHEAD starts freaking out. I mean, full on crazy man talking a mile a minute freaking out! He pulls his van in front of the rental car (which WE are paying for, by the way) and calls another cabbie to block him from the rear. Starts yelling, "Policia, Policia!"  Some other taxis stop, with passengers in the cabs wondering what the hell is going on... 

And, of course, this was the first time the language barrier REALLY hurt us because try as we might to explain that he wasn't some nasty illegal cabbie stealing business but a friend who was taking us to meet his Mama and to look for prostitutes no one except out Jose was fluent enough to understand us.  Pinhead kept yelling, and some of the other cabbies were getting a little close (physically) for comfort... I was personally willing to go to the hotel concierge and sort it out, but with about 7 cabs (still holding their fares INTO the resort, I might add) everyone was feeling pretty awkward, especially poor Jose... By the time we finally had things sorted out, we ended up paying some other jackass cabbie $20USD (twice what we would have had to pay) to take us into town, so we could meet Jose at central square and continue with our day. I was LIVID, and when we got back to the hotel I complained VERY loudly. I also sent in a formal letter describing our wholly unpleasant experience with their designated cabbie Nazis.

So, we had a taste of the darkside of the tourism industry in Puerto Plata. Jose explained that it's pretty typical - competition for tourism dollars is fierce and if you miss a ride, a sale, an opportunity, you're fishing in the creek for your supper.  In Jose's case if you get a tour group that doesn't tip, you're going home with 400 pesos (about $12USD) for a 16-hour day. Which is still better than what the Haitians get paid for cutting down a tonne of sugarcane by hand, or what a Dominican whore gets paid for an entire night...