Stories Beneath the Surface.

Ten years ago, my first colmado order in Santo Domingo was a comedy sketch featuring my shaky accent, a sweating phone in my hand, and a mystery six-pack that never arrived. Fast-forward a decade and dozens of hop-overs to Medellín, and I now fire off a voice note that lands cold beer and hot salami […]

How a Faded Photocopy Almost Derailed My Wheels Ten years in Santo Domingo have taught me that the real Dominican rite of passage is not dancing bachata on beat but surviving the driving-license exam at Intrant, the national transport office. I still remember my first attempt: I arrived armed with confidence, a crinkled folder, and […]

Ten years ago, when I first swapped Boston blizzards for Santo Domingo’s sticky afternoons, I thought I was reasonably fit. Then a cheerful trainer at a seafront gym challenged me to “correr suave, manito.” Five minutes later my lungs were fried plantains. Fast-forward a decade, and I still chase endorphins—just now I do it on […]

Cuando la fiebre te tumba en un domingo de playa I was waist-deep in the teal water of Playa Cosón, Samana, when my friend Andrés jokingly called me “el gringo de hierro.” Iron Man felt accurate until the tropical sun flipped a switch: chills, joint pain, and that unmistakable eye-socket ache that every Caribbean resident […]

A Fever, a Fan, and the First Form: My Baptism by Waiting Room I was twenty-four, new to Santo Domingo, and sweating more than usual. The ceiling fan at Hospital Moscoso Puello threatened to shake loose while I fumbled through my backpack for a pen. A nurse in a powder-blue uniform rattled off instructions; all […]

El primer mordisco—how a messy orange shirt changed my accent I still remember the first time I stained a brand-new white guayabera with the deep coral pulp of a ripe zapote. It was a Sunday morning at Santo Domingo’s Mercado Modelo, and I—James, a 33-year-old Brit who thought he already “spoke Spanish”—was haggling over two […]

I still remember landing at Las Américas Airport a decade ago. My flip-phone blinked “no service,” and I shuffled to the first Claro kiosk, armed with hilarious half-remembered textbook lines. The clerk raised an eyebrow when I asked, “¿Puedo comprar una tarjeta SIM para mi teléfono móvil inteligente?”—five syllables too many for Dominican speed. Fast-forward […]

The Day My Blender Got Detained I still remember the hum of ceiling fans and the smell of caramelized coffee at Las Américas International Airport when a customs officer lifted my beloved blender, peered at me, and asked, “¿Eso es para uso personal o comercial?” Ten years living here have taught me to answer calmly, […]

Ten years ago, fresh off the plane and still saying “no hablo mucho” with a sheepish grin, I found myself at the Jumbo in Santiago de los Caballeros courting disaster in the cereal aisle. I wanted honey-oat granola; I walked out with a bulk bag of chicken feed and a story that still gets me […]

La Primera Vez Que Mis Zapatos Se Hundieron en el Lodo Pocos viajes me han dejado tan cubierto de barro —literal y lingüísticamente— como mi primera caminata por el Valle de Cocora. Llegué desde Santo Domingo con las botas equivocadas, confiado en mi “Spanish Vocabulary” de supervivencia y en la ilusión de que el clima […]

From Surfboards to Stamps: My Annual Pilgrimage to the Immigration Office Ten years ago, I landed in Santo Domingo with a surfboard under my arm and only “¿Cuánto cuesta la cerveza?” in my linguistic arsenal. Fast-forward a decade, and my life looks less like a semester-abroad montage and more like a bi-national juggling act. Each […]