Monday, August 22, 2011

Dominican Thing

Midway through our Jarabacoa adventure, we stopped for lunch at a Chinese-Dominican comedor. The comedores are quite popular here and all offer the same seven dishes: white rice, white rice with a few beans, habichuela, fried chicken, french fries, fried plantains and manguHabichuela is bean soup, but if you ask a Dominican, its just beans. Mangu is mashed potatoes, but with yucca instead of potatoes. Its all reasonably tasty. And the appeal of the comedor is the price. Josh, the kids and I always get three plates of food, three bottles of water and a coke (for Josh) for about 300 pesos (US$7.75).
Now, the Chinese-Dominican comedores seems to be popular here. I've seen many Chinese immigrants in this country and every one of them is standing behind the counter while I'm ordering my lunch. They offer some additions to their buffets of comedor lunch options; usually one or two dishes that you would see at Panda Express in the mall. This means, for me, that I'll get to have a few vegetables since they're cooked and drenched in sauce and MSG.
Josh ordered our lunch while I took the kids in the back to wash our hands. A must. I've been disappointed several times having touched the bathroom door and touched the faucet only to find out there isn't any soap. Great, I think, now my hands are dirtier than when I came in. Today was, again, one of those. But I had to pee so bad, it was happening. The three of us got into the dirty, dilapidated bathroom and Max screamed. My reaction has morphed in the last few weeks since the boy has been screaming a lot. Mid-scream, I covered his mouth, then asked "What is it?" He pointed, shaking.
Dear Lord, I thought. Then I said the mom thing, "Its okay. Just give me a second."

I grabbed the door handle to shut the door on a spider I can only describe as the size of Thing from the Addams Family. It had muscles. The door squeaked and, sure enough, Dominican-Thing ran inside the bathroom, across Max's feet (who screamed again), over my feet and up the wall, where she paused (we all know the big ones are female). Dominican-Thing poised herself to, I assume, jump on Zora, strangle her with its legs, remove her organs and feed them to its clan. In a flash, I whipped off my Chaco and gave one, heavy swing straight at Dominican-Thing, hoping I wouldn't put a hole in the wall, releasing God-knows-what.
My triumph came with, I kid you not, a splatter of guts and lifeless legs sticking out from under my Chaco (you know how big and heavy those sandals are, right?!). I slowly removed my sandal and dead Dominican-Thing fell to the floor with a thump. No exaggeration.
I peed--hovering over the filthy toilet--so fast that Max said, "Woah, Mom! That's like a waterfall!" I was not about to meet any of Dominican-Thing's relatives with my pants down. We "washed" our hands and cautiously headed to lunch, grateful that Zora had not been made an organ donor.

1 comment:

  1. Should have gotten a little saddle and wrangled it into being a pet or guard spider. I shudder!!!!

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