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I moved to the Dominican Republic in the summer of 2001.  My wife and I had been considering the possibility of working away from our home country for some time.  Our lives changed dramatically after I saw an advertisement in a professional journal.  It had very little detail save a line drawing of a palm tree, and, if memory serves me, text that said, “Would you like to work in the Caribbean for three years for a major company, with a guaranteed return to the UK at the end?   Call this number…” As you will have guessed, I called the number and got the job.  In the space of a few months I (with family in hot pursuit) changed employer, job, country, language and culture.  No doubt the psychiatrists should have seen us regularly since then, but the move has provided just what we had hoped and expected – a wild mix of amazing experiences lashed with the seasoning of frustrations and heartache that everyone says are par for the course of the expatriate life. We have two children, who at the time of the move were almost three and one, respectively.  Bear in mind, as you read this article, that life, whether you are at home or travelling, may have a completely different feel to it depending on your core family unit.  It is a no brainer that people with no children will be able to see and do things that those with toddlers cannot.  My wife and I desperately wanted to climb mountains, kiss passionately under waterfalls and scuba dive on coral reefs, but that will come later! The Dominican Republic occupies the eastern two-thirds of the island of Hispaniola, with the remaining part being Haiti.  It is said that when Columbus first reached Hispaniola, he declared that the eyes of man had never seen a more beautiful place.  There are some parts that might challenge that view these days, but the Dominican Republic retains a rich and very varied natural environment.  Spanish is the national language.  The currency is the Dominican Peso. As is common to most developing nations in the region, the Dominican Republic has extremes of wealth and poverty.  At one extreme, someone imported a McClaren F1 car last year at a cost of who knows what.  The flip side is life in the “barrios”, the shantytowns where people live in structures made from scavenged pieces of wood, cinder block and anything else that can be used.  A significant majority of the country’s population lives in the second group.

Whilst we are talking about the city in general, let’s cover the roads.  In Santo Domingo, and in many parts of the Dominican Republic, the roads are full of holes.  The old joke about not driving through a puddle after the rain is actually a survival aide memoire, because the hole could be anything from an inch to a yard deep!  You see many SUVs on the road.  People buy them because a big vehicle with big wheels gives part-protection against the road surface.  The bigger issue that you need protection from is the Dominican driver. Many forms of vehicular traffic try to kill you every time that you venture onto the highway.  Santo Domingo is infested with small motorbikes that are driven around with no consideration for other road users or for the health of their riders.  They mount the path, swerve in all directions, have no lights at night and very regularly crash.  Then there are the taxis, some of which look like they have been made from components too damaged to grace a wrecker’s yard.  A Dominican taxi driver has a universal signal, which is a sort of flicking of the hand out of the window.  This can mean: “I am turning left”; “I am turning right”; “I am stopping”; I have room”; “I am full”, and; “Life’s like that” (when he has just driven out straight in front of you trying to kill you).  In a small saloon car at full capacity, there will be a driver plus six passengers.  I would not recommend that you use these “publicos”.  Another wild animal on the roads is the “gua gua”, a mini-bus service running on defined routes.  The drivers are maniacs, and they leave the universal signal to the conductor, who hangs out of the passenger doors waving his arm.  The meanings of this signal are the same as for taxis.  Finally, there are the SUVs.  Obviously, if you have a big car with lots of protection (bull bars almost universal too), then you have to drive as if there is no tomorrow.

Two other aspects of the degraded infrastructure of the country are worth a mention here.  Tap water is not safe to drink.  Purified water is easy to find and is inexpensive (except in hotels, but are you surprised by my saying that?) so stick to it at all times.  When you first move to the Dominican Republic, quite severe stomach upsets are common.  I guess that you pick up bugs from food products, such as salads etc.  There are nasty bugs around, so always consult a physician if diarrhoea persists.  Another infrastructure issue that drives everyone nuts is electricity supply.  For the amount and quality of volts that you receive, the Dominican Republic must have some of the most expensive electricity in the world.  All buildings have a generator, and they are on for periods of most days.  The supply is subject to appliance murdering power surges, and at the opposite end of the scale, appliance-damaging brownouts.  A privatisation of the state electricity companies some years ago has left everyone (government, producers, distributors and customers) blaming each other.  An objective appraisal is simply that things are in a mess.
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Telecommunications and cable TV are excellent and at reasonable cost, when you have them.  One thing that will upset anyone used to a culture that understands customer service is the unique approach to it in Latin America.  It is not worth describing that aspect of life in too much detail here, but be aware that appointments are rarely kept, parts are often missing, you may have paid your money but you don’t necessarily get the product/service straight away and complaining about customer service is about as much use as a chocolate bicycle.  We learned, ever so slowly, to adapt to a different rhythm, and then the banging of heads on walls in total frustration abated somewhat – although never completely. Dominican people are friendly, helpful and curious.  Even when confronted with the fact that most people speak only Spanish (and Dominican Spanish is very quick, with a lot of abbreviated words), a foreigner will on most occasions find numerous citizens willing to assist with any problem.  Personal safety is what you would expect in any large city.  I can honestly say that the Santo Domingo, in my experience, is as safe as any city that I know in the UK.  In 2002 and 2003 there have been some kidnappings for ransom of members of wealthy business families, but it does not appear to be a spreading trend.  Again, as in any large city, the barrios of Santo Domingo have drugs problems and related violence.  You just need to be savvy about which parts of town to be in at which times of day. One aspect of culture shock that you may feel in the Dominican Republic is the noisiness of the streets.  Cars, houses and the numerous small corner markets blare out competing decibels of merengue music, the favourite dance style in the country.  Often, it is great simply to wind down the windows and soak it all in.

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The weather in Santo Domingo is hot.  The sun is intense, and if you are Caucasian, can burn unprotected skin in a few minutes.  In the autumn, with the thermometer popping, the rains falling regularly and the risk of hurricanes, you can only dream of snow on cold winter mornings!  Even though winter temperatures fall by a few degrees from the summer peak, it stays sweltering – in my European opinion.  Dominicans break out the jackets and woolly jumpers and worry that they will succumb to pneumonia.

Next time – social life, recreation and residency issues.
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To read Part Two Click Here. You can contact Malcolm at malcolmcouch@hotmail.com

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