A Nightmare Part 2

At 1:30 am I walked out onto Daisy and Ronaldo's front patio. From there the sounds of El Seibo's strip of clubs could be heard blasting house and dembow into the night. On Friday nights, these establishments become a sort of city commons, flooding the sidewalks and islands of space created by cars parked on the Avenida, El Seibo's main drag. People even mill about in the median strip, sipping their beers and taking in the scene.

El Seibo's deserted post office


I was about to go inside when I was struck with a realization. I was staring up at the stars when it dawned on me that it was the first time I'd seem them since I arrived at the beginning of much. In Santo Domingo, the night sky had been rendered a nondescript mat of black by ambient light. In the week since I arrived at CBT, I have been too caught up in training to notice.