Volunteer Visit Part 2

The place where I found myself with the five girls was incongruous with the rest of Moca. Indeed, upon entering I felt as if I had left the Dominican Republic. The interior was done in a kind of wooden style that resembled the hold of a ship and one entire wall was devoted, ceiling to floor, to wine, beer, rum, whiskey, and scotch. By the way the men working there were dressed, I may have guessed they lived in L.A. At one point, the TV in the corner played a public access program featuring two of them talking about liquor.

Chilling at Heather's (from left to right): Zenia, Keeton, Heather

A round of coffee drinks were ordered including mocha frapucinos and we discussed life in the DR, and talked about relationships. A volunteer named Phil arrived and rounds of beer and mojitos began to flow. Day turned to night and house music started blaring from a speaker somewhere. Though tested in my resolve not to drink, I found it quite easy to enjoy myself sober given the company.

After a cab to Heather's place we ventured out for fried chicken and karaoke, the latter of which was quite the scene. About a block of the main drag in Heather's neighborhood was astir with people milling loosely about the focal point of a some lyrics projected against the wall of a colmado (general store). On both sides of the road, people sat in green plastic patio chairs, watching as patrons belted balladas into the night air.

Phil and Sabrina hang out at Heather's place

Heather's admirer, a drunken thirty-something named Horse with slicked-back hair and a shirt that read "Soy Dewarista" acosted the poor woman, fawning over her and pawing her with such dogged persistence that we felt a need to stall while she got rid of him to keep him from following us home.