Grifter Update: another brick in the wall

I have made mention in the past, that care is required in dealing with the natural gravity that exists when you see a person of similar color/assumed culture,language, values while in a foreign country. Presumed guilty is the way to approach, another lesson re-learned. I recently revisited an isolated community in the DR, which I abandoned after two years. I did leave on the heels of a bad relationship, and saw my friends betraying me for my partner, and jumped ship, leaving no wake. Reconnecting with a few women I cared for seemed appropriate, especially as I realized their betrayal was more for a wallet than emotion. And that's where the grifter's aim, the wallet region. Going back was like being in a room full of felix the cat wall clocks. Tails and eyes, moving back and forth, back and forth, tick, tick, tick. I had come prepared with armor, as my first pass at coming back was asking to stay with a friend, and being told she would rent me a room in town. This is someone who has visited me, with an entourage of people, and always complains I do not spend time with her. So I stayed with more 'friends' in their empty B&B, empty of guests, food and drink. Unless it is rum and cigarettes, the cupboard is bare, everywhere. Someone is always spotting for a smoke, downing rum at all hours, stealing a lighter, blowing smoke in your face. And there is always rum, for them. And in going out to eat, there is always someone who "can't go" due to finances. My first night the woman who wanted to rent me a room , was loud in her declaration of not contributing to the sad person's meal... she owed her too much money. Guess who that leaves? I felt like the first steak in the butcher's window: fresh meat has arrived. There is a strange fluctuation of support and punishment amongst the clan. They will show up with food and cook a meal , or drop by with something, but there is always a price. Or have a fist fight in the street. They steal each others' customers, sue each other if business shows any signs of profitability, raise rents, evict, or take you on a snipe hunt. Or buy you a pack of cigarettes, offer to school your child(that man was a hero until he molested her...) They all jockey for the rider, but some will forever shovel shit and haul water. One woman's tale of one years' infidelity required a flow chart in order to keep up. I won't even go into the handy sex tool for your solving problems... These are the people, the friendly white faces, that we all run into here in dark-skinned places, where we are warned that the locals will skin you alive. There is rarely blood, or a trace of your wallet as you recover. And it is not just leaving broke, but seeing this repeat itself, as the eyes go back and forth, always searching...The cast changes clothes, partners, locations...no need for a dress rehearsal, no script to highlight, the show has no intermission. It is almost a relief to leave, before the curtain falls if you are lucky.And not to take any of that with you, although it sticks to you like a powder or a film, the disconnect from feeling anything but the daily scrounging. I find the Dominicans to not be sly and manipulative, They don't display spiteful behavior, always share what they have, and look out for each other. The Imported grifters rarely associate with locals, unless it is to use them for protection, or bargain basement services.

It is God's Will, sort of

Today Ona ate La Bibla, a Jehovah's Witness brochure I thought might help my Spanish. Not meant to be, and if anyone could use some religion, some real discipline(that's what the man told me Sunday, standing at my gate, trying to convince me of The Way)it is Ona. And maybe the chickens, hell, they will eat anything and need to get a more consistent approach to egg production. One egg one day, seven the next. But chickens and religion might be a stretch, even for the seemingly desperate(or maybe they were just hot and thirsty?) JWs. I thought about offering them water, and then was reminded of a child dying in the hospital because the parents would not permit a blood transfusion. Its all about discipline, sacrifice, and if it doesn't work out, there is always the here-after. I am surprised that Dominicans believe in this path. For a culture that lives for the moment, for the now, the day, why would you gamble on being paid back for your sacrifice when you are dead? It seems in-congruent, but the charisma must cross the cultural barrier. And what about birthdays? It is a Dominican practice to approach any and everyone you know on that special day for a gift, usually a beer. "it's my special" is yelled at Gringos. Prepare to purchase a beer, or have a donation ready. I am at a loss....and there seem to be a fair amount of JW Temples, big cement coliseums...packed with Dominicans? I guess if they are willing to walk up the hill to my house, there must be something to it. On Sundays, I usually attend a men's softball game in the next town, where I am affectionately known as the enfermera de Los Normans, team nurse. No one goes to church , that's for sure. And there has only been one team prayer at the beginning of a tournament, just for show I am sure. Otherwise, its play ball as usual, lots of beer during and afterwards, and only the occasional " A Dios", usually when someone sneezes.