Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

The Dominican is poor by American standards. Median income is $3,550, less than a tenth of US income. However in the rankings of world's happiest countries, the DR is always near the top. People are well dressed and entrepreneurial. As in many poor countries, they see white tourists as a walking ATM. On our first day my parents agreed to a $28 taxi ride that should have cost $4, and my mom accepted the services of an "official tour guide" who then showed her all the places she could buy Dominican jewelry for five times the normal cost.
Our first stop was at the Faro a Colon, a massive monument built in celebration of the 500th anniversary of Christopher Columbus voyage to the DR. This place is the size of an Egyptian pyramid. It is built in the shape of a cross, and has a powerful searchlight that supposedly can be seen from space. The light is seldom turned on though, as it causes blackouts in the surrounding neighborhoods.

Me, Mom and Dad in front of Columbus' tomb. This is a site of controversy. Columbus remains were first buried in Valladolid, Spain upon his death in 1506, and then moved to a monastery in Seville. In 1542, his remains were transferred to Santo Domingo. In 1795, the French took over Hispaniola, and his remains were moved to Havana, Cuba. After Cuba became independent in 1898, his remains were moved back to the Cathedral of Seville in Spain. However, a lead box bearing an inscription identifying "Don Christopher Columbus" and containing fragments of bone and a bullet was discovered at Santo Domingo in 1877.

To prove that Spain has the real Columbus, DNA samples were taken in June 2003, but the results are not conclusive. Only a few limited fragments of mitochondrial DNA could be isolated, but these do appear that the body may be that of Columbus. The authorities in Santo Domingo have not allowed the remains there to be exhumed, so it is unknown if any of those remains could be from Columbus's body. So, is this really Columbus' grave or not? I really don't care, because I've been to the Cathedral in Seville as well, so I'm pretty sure I've got him one way or the other!

Later, while sitting on a park bench in Park Colon writing, I was approached by all manner of hustlers and con men. Apparently sitting down and reading Lonely Planet is a flashing red light that says "I'm a lost tourist, come try to rip me off!" The same tour guide sat down and told me all the great deals he could get my "Mama". Later an attractive couple sat by me, the woman a little to close for comfort. The man struck up a conversation with me about growing up in Queens, cheering for the Yankees, and liking Ronald Reagan. Oh and by the way, his "cousin" really liked American guys if I was interested. Umm. No thanks. Next a homeless man asked me if I was actor, and then told me that I looked just like Clint Eastwood. Is that a compliment? I mean, Clint Eastwood is like 78 years old. He then announced that he had AIDS, and could he have some money for his meds? Others would wander by trying to sell me coffee from a jug, Meringue CD's, rosary beads, newspapers in Spanish. Although, at no time did I feel unsafe in Santo Domingo, even while walking some very dark streets. SD has a serious electricity problem. There is not enough juice to support the whole grid of two million people. Rolling blackouts are the norm. The main tourist center would go completely dark every evening for a few hours. The major hotels, restaurants, and stores all have private generators in the basements. The streetlights go out, but life goes on.

Our hotel, the Conde de Penalba, is a gracefully aged building with al fresco dining overlooking the Plaza Colon in SD's colonial district. We enjoyed several Presidente beers on our private second-floor balcony watching ebullient Dominicans and reserved tourists amble by. In the mornings I ran along the Malecon, the long waterfront avenue that hosts the city's high rise hotels and nightlife. I had hoped for a beautiful run along the azure Caribbean Sea, but it was not to be. Unlike the well cared for Zona Colonial, I found the Malecon littered with mountains of garbage. Homeless sleep on concrete benches surrounded by a blanket of trash. The rocky shore is occasionally interrupted by a small beach with every inch of sand covered in plastic. A ring of waste encircles the coastline. Any fresh breeze of Caribbean air is drowned by exhaust fumes of passing motorbikes. The sound of the surf breaking on the rocks is overpowered by the blasts of truck horns. At this moment I have much appreciation for the spotless beaches of Maui and the relative calm of South Kihei Road. In the DR's defense, the following day, I found the majority of the trash picked up, apparently Monday morning is the low point for the Malecon. However, it would take an army of trash pickers to clear the whole coastline.

Returning to the Park Colon, I find Cristobal Colon (Christopher Columbus in English) omnipresent in Santo Domingo. The Great Admiral's brother Bartholomew founded the city in 1498, making it the oldest European city in the New World. Across from our hotel is the oldest church in continuous use in the Western Hemisphere, built in 1521.
Columbus landed on the north shore of the island of Hispaniola on December 5th 1492, on his first voyage to the New World. Eighteen days later he ran the Santa Maria aground, and was forced to abandon it, tearing it apart to build a fort called "La Navidad" for 39 men he left behind. At this time Hispaniola was inhabited by approximately 400,000 Taino indians. At first the Spanish had peaceful relations with the Taino, but soon took to raping and murdering them. This may have been a bad decision, being outnumbered 10,000 to 1. Columbus returned to La Navidad on November 27, 1493 to discover eleven Spanish corpses lining the beach and that the Taino had killed all 39 Spanish settlers. Columbus sailed 70 miles further east and founded another settlement called "La Isabella". I would think it must have been hard to get volunteers to stay behind this time around. However, this settlement survived, and in 1496 Bart Columbus packed everyone up and sailed to the south side of the island to relocate to what is today the east side of Santo Domingo. The city was completely wiped out by a hurricane in 1502, and they chose to rebuild on the west side of the Ozama river.
Things did not turn out so well for the Taino indians. The Spanish killed thousands through warfare, disease, and slavery. By the mid 1600's the Tainos had been practically wiped out and the Spanish began importing African slaves to work their plantations. The last Taino native was seen in 1864. Dominicans today are a mixture of Spanish and African blood, almost zero native Taino blood remains.

In the evening we caught a cab to Estadio Quisqueya for a beisbol game between the Escogido Leones and Estrellas. Our friendly cabbie played "Name that Tune" with me as he blasted Celine Dion and Whitney Houston while swerving wildly through the blacked-out back streets of SD. We arrived at the sparkling clean stadium, and got 15th row seats behind first base for just 275 pesos ($8), about one fiftieth of what similar seats would cost at Fenway. Dominicans are the best baseball players in the world, far better than Americans on a per-capita measurement of major leaguers. Unfortunately we had picked a game between the two worst teams in the Dominican Winter League, and the crowd numbered less than a thousand. But as the game got underway, it was a loud and enthusiastic thousand. We rooted for the home team Escogido, and they capitalized on some Estrellas errors to win easily 8-3. Several current and former MLB players were in the game including Reggie Willits and Tony Batista. The Dominican game is more of an entertainment production than in America. The had a man on eight foot stilts walking through the stands. A lion mascot taunted the opposing players throughout the game. Perhaps best of all, the seventh inning stretch consisted of a half dozen cheerleaders dressed in hot pants, half shirts and baseball caps doing ridiculous booty shaking dances on the dugout roof, and using the Lion mascot as a stripper pole. It was absolutely outrageous, and I tried to picture curmudgeon sportswriter Dan Shaugnessy of the Boston Globe watching this from a Fenway box seat. We had a blast at Quisqueya stadium, beautiful ballpark, cheap seats, cold beer, and quality play.

The next day Mom and I took on the challenge of navigating the DR's public transport system to go to a nearby beach town. After a longer then expected uphill walk under a hot sun, we were finally directed to a bus labelled "Boca Chica". This private transport was thankfully chilled inside, with plush leather seats. As in most poorer countries, the bus didn't leave until every seat was full; but we didn't have to wait long, and for just 60 pesos ($1.70) we got a 20 mile ride.
Strangely I was the only male passenger on the bus. Maybe Dominican men don't like the beach? The bus driver blaster meringue the whole way, and the lady seated behind us quietly sang along with a sweet voice. We passed tall palm trees and low limestone cliffs along the Caribbean coast. On arrival in Boca Chica, we were almost immediately chased under cover by rain sprinkles. Within a few minutes a virtual wall of water hit us. With about ten seconds of warning, people ran for cover before the deluge. It rained briefly every afternoon during our stay, a pleasant break from the hot sun and high humidity.
Boca Chica has a wide, white powder sand beach. The majority of which is covered by chairs and umbrellas from the Bachata cranking bars and restaurants that line it. And as in SD, as you walk the beach you are approached by people selling CD's, sunglasses, towels, inflatable rafts, marijuana, massage, manicures, sex, boat rides, mariachi-style meringue serenades, and chiclet gum. If you are looking for a quiet, isolated place to read a book, Boca Chica is not the place for you. If you are looking for a Spanish-speaking Spring Break, you've come to the right place.

Dominicans are some of the most expressive people I've met. Always talking, shouting, whistling, singing, beeping car horns. It is not a quiet country. Dominicans are an attractive, well dressed lot. Men in suit pants, Italian leather loafers, and Cuban styled collared dress shirts unashamedly ogle high-heeled women in skin tight jeans as they pass by. It is a society where machismo and femininity have not yet been replaced by workplace harassment sensitivity training.

For the first time ever in my peripatetic travels, I deliberately passed up a chance to add another country to my list. While in Santo Domingo, I was only a three-hour bus ride from the Haitian border. It pained me to not make a day trip over to get country #45. Unfortunately, Haiti is currently the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. AIDS and starvation are ever-present. Stories have circulated in the western media about people eating mud cookies. Crime and murder rates are high, and Haiti just replaced Columbia as the country that kidnapped the most Americans in 2007. So, for once I used my better judgement and stayed in the DR.

Singapore

At 9pm we entered KL Sentral train station and boarded the night train for Singapore. For just $74 we had our own compartment with bunk beds, TV, and an attached bathroom with a shower. As it turned out, the shower didn't work, and the TV only showed a rerun of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. It was more difficult to sleep on a train then I had remembered, and we arrived in Singapore pretty beat. Our first introduction to Singapore was their overzealous immigration checkpoint. The entire trains passengers were required to get off, with all of their luggage, and go through airport-style customs and immigration. This took well over an hour. I've crossed a half-dozen borders by train before and this is the first time I've ever seen anything like this. Normally, the customs officers just hop on the train somewhere near the border, and while it is in motion, they go cabin to cabin, checking and stamping passports. Singapore brought out the drug sniffing dogs, and went through every compartment. After the tired disheveled mass of passengers were allowed back on our train, we had only a few more minutes to the Singapore station. We alighted, caught a cab to our hotel, and got our first glimpse of the city. Skyscrapers lined the river, the highways are perfect, and no graffiti in sight.

"Disneyland with the death penalty." "The only shopping mall with a seat at the U.N." A country where importing chewing gum is illegal. After two days here, I would describe Singapore like this: Think of the most massive, cavernous, shopping mall you have ever been in. It is gleamingly clean and white, it's air-conditioning a little too cold. Every big name store on Earth is present, Armani, Dolce Gabbana, Rolex. Now picture that instead of this mall being populated by a few hundred portly American families chewing on their Orange Julius, it is instead filled with several thousand Chinese, all chattering in Mandarin you can make no sense of. They press in on you from all sides, sometimes trapping you in cramped passageways for a few claustrophobic seconds. Now imagine that the spaces between each big box store in this mall are separated by 100 meters of outdoor sidewalk sun-baked to 90 degrees with 80% humidity. After one minute of walking you are soaked in sweat. Your only refuge from the sweltering heat is to re-enter yet another frigid, packed, shopping mall. This goes on for several miles. There is no escape. Welcome to Singapore.
Apparently Malaysians like to stand on sit-down toilets.
Best to leave the smokes, burgers, durians, and gas cans at home.

This tunnel could be your most expensive bike ride ever.

They shoot jaywalkers on sight don't they?

Durians smell really bad.
Our visit to Singapore started out well enough. Our taxi ride into the city was quick and reasonably priced, maybe $6. Our digs, the Southeast Asia Hotel, were run down but adequate. On early Saturday morning we walked the empty streets to the Riverwalk area and admired the city skyline. There is no question Singapore is an attractive city. It's clean, has green parks, great museums, water everywhere, and excellent public transport. It's well ordered, as it's reputed, the cars actually stop for pedestrians, and no one jaywalks. We passed all the above signs threatening fines for varying minor offences, yet we did not see a single policeman. Are the Singaporeans so cowed that enforcement is no longer necessary?We passed by the Merlion statue, the Esplenade theatres, and visited the fascinating Southeast Asian Civilizations Museum. We went for a quality run in Fort Canning Park, probably the best run in two weeks. We walked to all the major sights of the city, but it was strangely empty, like everyone had cleared out for the weekend. Our first night we made the obligatory trip to Raffles Hotel Long Bar for an original Singapore Sling. Actually Lindso got the Sling, and I opted for a pint of Tiger beer. My beer cost 21.06SGD ($14.75 US), so I had the thrill of setting a new personal best for most expensive beer. Below is my reaction to seeing the bar bill. I expected tourist trap Raffles to gouge, but I was shocked to find beer all over town costing 10, 12, 14 Singapore Dollars. For a city of four million, on a Saturday night, there was almost zero going on. Weird.

Flower sales outside our hotel

By the second night we had it figured out. We rode the MRT to Orchard Road and entered hopping mall hell. I've concluded the national sport of Singapore is shopping. We saw thousands of Chinese ladies frantically digging through the sales racks in mall after mall. I've also discovered that the "cafe culture" of Europe that we love so much is completely absent in Singapore. Nowhere can you find a place to sit and have a coffee or a beer and watch the world go by, except at a chain like Starbucks, or at some extortionate tourist trap. Singapore ranks very low on my list of destinations. We couldn't wait to leave.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

We left Jogja in the afternoon for a 2.5 hour flight back to Malaysia, though this time to peninsular Malaysia to the capitol, Kuala Lumpur. We flew Air Asia for the third time this trip. What a great airline! Cheap fares; this one was only $58, cheap, delicious meals offered onboard, hot female flight attendants, (editor's note: this was pointed out by Lindso, I wasn't going to say a word), and they fly all over southeast Asia. We arrived at night in KL's low cost commuter terminal (KLIA LCCT), and searched for transport to the city center, over 30 miles away. A cab service wanted 92 ringgit ($28) but next door a bus service asked only 15 ringgit ($4.50) for door to door service. We rode the bus for the hour-long journey. This drive was some culture shock for us. After spending eight days in down trodden Indonesia, we found KL to be a sparkling, modern, clean, first world city. The skyline was lit with skyscrapers, including the iconic Petronas Towers. We spied them and the KL Tower from miles outside the city. The Petronas Towers, completed in 1998, stand at 1,482 feet, and were the tallest buildings in the world until 2004, when they were surpassed by Taipei 101. We were awed by them as our bus drove right by. We were dropped off at our hotel, the Pacific Regency, right by the KL Tower. Our room on the 25th floor had a sweeping view of the city skyline and the Petronas Towers. We had travelled light years from the dusty streets of Jogja in just a few hours. We changed into our finest non-backpacker grunge attire, and rode the lift up to the top of the Pacific Regency, the 33rd floor holding the trendy Luna Bar. The Luna had a DJ, an open rooftop setting with a pool, and unblocked side views of the Petronas. At $9 per drink, we only stayed for one, but we got some good photos.

We barhopped till late, amazed at the thriving nightlife of Kuala Lumpur, nightlife that had been completely absent so far on our trip. We particularly enjoyed drinks at Sangria's and phenomenal late-night Indian food at Estana's Curry House. Estana's might be the best food I've ever had in my life. Really. I might be willing to move to KL just to eat here every night.

The next morning we headed first to the hotel fitness center, where Lindsey wanted to run on the treadmill. I stared out the gym window at a direct view of the next door KL Tower (1,381 feet). Suddenly I saw motion from the observatory of the tower. Someone had just jumped off it! I instantly thought it must be a bungee jumper. But there was no cord. Just as my brain began to formulate the thought "Am I witnessing a suicide?" the jumper threw his little parachute. BASE jumper. Phew. As I went for my run around the Tower I would see several more jumpers. Looks like fun, maybe a new hobby for me if I ever move here for the curry.
Later we caught a cab to the Petronas where we met up with a friend of a friend, Yong Koon, who works in the Towers. Yong Koon treated us to an excellent meal of traditional Penang style dishes. It was fun to meet her and get an inside perspective of life in KL.

KL is the best place I've ever been for people watching. In just 10 minutes sitting on a bench in the Petronas shopping mall you'll see women in headscarves, women in the full black abaya, goth teenagers, skater kids, men in tailored suits staring at their blackberrys, Saudi sheiks in flowing white robes, yuppies in Armani, tall dark men in African green and tan dashikis. The world is coming together in KL.
We walked throughout the city and found lots of interesting neighborhoods and markets. Lindso and I found some super-cheap clothes on Petaling Street.
KL has a pretty colonial area, though the city is very young, having been nothing more than a swamp before 1850. We were here just two days before Merdeka, or Malaysian Independence day. As such, there were flags everywhere. Every parking garage, office building, storefront, hotel, all were flying the Malaysian flag. Below is a picture of the largest we saw, covering a 20 story hotel. We really liked KL. It is a great mix of old and new, with so many different cultures intersecting. It has great shopping and nightlife. Prices are reasonable, especially for food which is fantastic. We hope to come back again sometime on our way to another trip.