So—in the Newark Airport, half –asleep. I was trying to get online to post on FB, but you have to PAY for internet access in this airport! Come on now, that’s not friendly.

I got to Jenn’s at 8:00pm last night, but we didn’t get to bed until 10:30pm. I miraculously woke up without much difficulty at 2:30am and we headed to the MCFA after a brief discussion about the pros and cons of wearing socks with sandals (Jenn decided against the look.) We lumbered onto the bus and dozed our way to Burlington to make the 6:00am flight. I’m starting to have those great get to know you conversations with different members of the company and group. Liz and I talked about her senior dance concert work coming up. The subject is borders—borderlands, definite and permeable, the affect they have on those around them. I grew up next to the U.S. –Mexico border in Southern California, so it was great to chat for a bit about where I am come from. One of my favorite things about working at Middlebury is hearing the stories of where students come from and how they got here. So Liz is from Vermont, and Cat is from Oakland, Phillipe lives ten minutes from the airport I’m sitting in.

Our flight to Puerto Plata leaves at 9:05, arriving at 2:00pm. Time is a funny thing when you get up at 2:30 to start traveling. The lines between minutes and proper times of day become those permeable borderlands…I think I need more coffee.

Now—9:26pm Day 1 Arrival in Puerto Plata—

Quotes for the day “I think I’m done driving for the day.” Jenn Ponder

“She’s trying to be cute” Alex (not talking about Jenn)

“I can see why you love it down here, they love art as much as you do.” Michael Chorney

So, safe arrival, much maneuvering of rental cars, people, bags, taxis, taxi drivers, then finally loaded and ready to go. When you drive in a new place it’s always overwhelming, but trying to caravan 4 vehicles through Duarte Day traffic which is ribboned with streaming motoconchos is another. But the drive itself is stunning. It is so verdant with grasses and palm trees, crayola red and yellow irises. The mountains are steep and rich, making a frame around Puerto Plata, the sea creating the last winding edge. There are people walking, riding, talking, sitting, fixing motorcycles and go-carts on the side of the road. There is a small white van in front of us that is apparently a bus, since it stops for an old woman standing in front of a ramshackle shelter. Christian says it’s like a dream, which is exactly what I was thinking.

We get to the hotel fairly quickly. The big pink Hotel Lomar, No. 8 on the long Malecon boulevard. The street that sits between the town and the ocean, the Malecon is extrememly busy today since it is a national holiday. I have never seen so many small motorcycles outside of a motorcross competition in my life.

We settle, get unpacked. Gather for a group meeting, then off to La Sirena for food and sundries. Jeremy has already walked there and back by the time we are ready to go. He describes it as a cross between Walmart and Carnivale. It does indeed have everything from Guavas to gallons of yogurt—just the right fuel for dancers. By the time we get back, we are late to meet Penny’s friend Moreno who is a local arts advocate. He has invited us to watch a carnivale rehearsal with local kids, including his own daughter Mylin. Most of Midd Company is already tired, so they take a break while we head to Parque Central.

We pull up to a building that is covered in murals and is in need of some fairly serious repair and clean-up. Moreno is there and introduces us to Gerson, a painter. When we walk into the building, with its enormous foyer and grand staircase, you see two things. Huge temporary walls covered in canvases ripped with color and energy. (Do you think Van Gogh ever visited the DR? Maybe.) Moreno leads us down a hallway where some kids are hanging out. They range in age from 7-14 and are totally stunning. The room has some boxes pushed into the corner and somewhere is a CD player. Moreno asks the kids to show us their dance for Carnivale, a festival that takes place after we leave, and Mylin comes to the front to lead them. They are very focused, but manage to steal looks at Penny and I while they are dancing. Whenever Penny smiles or nods her head, they look so pleased.

After much applauding and a few pictures, we head upstairs to check out a set of rooms that houses their workshop area. They have created a few masks from brown paper bags and what looks like 30 weight Valvoline. Traditional Paper Mache, but Rambo style. The mask is done in the Taino style, and Moreno explains some of the symbolism. Penny has described Moreno to me as the Dominican Che Guevara. Only he is working on the changing the world through the arts instead of socialism. Penny and Moreno talk for a bit while I wander around and try to take a few art pictures.

We get back in time to round up a very tired and sleepy group and drag them to dinner. Note to self: crossing the Malecon on Duarte Day--muy dangerissimo (is that right, David?) We manage to order food and drinks and eventually we all eat. The students are exhausted (poor Jeremy) and eventually trickle away after doing higher math to figure out the bill. We get back to the hotel, I write most of this post, then fall asleep on the laptop. Whew.