Stories Beneath the Surface.

My First Wrong Turn toward Cabarete Ten years ago, freshly arrived from rainy Manchester and still buzzing from thetaste of my first morir soñando, I decided that the best way to learn thelay of the Dominican land was behind the wheel. I rented a tiny Kia Picanto inSanto Domingo, pointed it toward the North Coast, […]

Opening Beat: The Night the Conga Saved My Gig I still remember the humid Cali dusk when my phone pinged with a frantic voice note: “¡Loco, el conguero se cayó y necesitamos un conga para esta noche!” Ten years living in the Dominican Republic had trained my ear to catch Caribbean urgency, but here in […]

Ten years ago I was wedged in the back of a Santo Domingo carro público, sweating through a guayabera and juggling three plastic bags of mangos. The driver turned and asked if I could scoot over un chin to make room for a fourth passenger. I had just arrived from New York, armed with textbook […]

La mudanza inesperada que me hizo hablar con los muebles Three months ago, my landlord in Santo Domingo decided to renovate. Overnight, I found myself lugging my monitor, microphone, and ergonomic chair onto a flight to Barranquilla. The goal: finish a consulting project from a temporary Airbnb while the jackhammers back home serenaded my neighbors. […]

“¡Dale, James, rema duro!” The shout cut through the roar of the Atlantic as my instructor, a wiry Dominican named Wilson, encouraged me to paddle. I was twenty-three, fresh off the plane, clutching a sun-bleached board the size of a cafeteria table. I understood maybe thirty percent of what Wilson said, but when the wave […]

Last July, while I was zig-zagging between the pastel-painted balconies of Cartagena and worrying only about where to score the freshest ceviche, my stomach decided to audition for a horror film. One minute I was sipping panela ice tea, the next I was doubled over, mumbling half-formed Spanish to a pharmacist who looked as puzzled […]

I still remember the first time I stood outside the blue-painted gates of Colegio San Patricio in Santo Domingo, clutching a freshly stapled bundle of “calificaciones.” I’d been tutoring my neighbor’s twelve-year-old, Martina, in English. Her mom thrust the report card into my hands with a proud grin and asked, “¿Qué tú crees de estas […]

My Baptism by Paperwork Fire The first time I walked into a Colombian notaría I felt like a bachata dancer who had accidentally stepped onto a salsa stage—same family of rhythms, but the footwork was totally different. I had already spent eight years juggling rent contracts and visa renewals in Santo Domingo, yet that morning […]

Getting Happily Lost: My First Sunset Inside the Walls I still remember the lavender dusk that settled over Cartagena the first time I arrived from Santo Domingo. The narrow streets smelled of tamarind raspado and sea salt, and the colonial balconies dripped bougainvillea like confetti. I thought ten years of Caribbean living had trained my […]

My First Sip Amidst Wax Palms Ten years ago I stepped off a guagua in Constanza, Dominican Republic, clutching a Styrofoam cup of what locals insisted was café puro. Back then I could barely order it without pointing. Fast-forward to last month: I’m perched on a sun-drenched hill outside Salento, Colombia, trading jokes in Spanish […]

Sweat, Strings, and My First Bachata Request I was twenty-three, newly landed in Santo Domingo, and already dripping with the sticky Caribbean heat when the DJ at my neighborhood colmado dropped the opening guitar licks of Aventura’s “Obsesión.” I’d been nursing a Presidente, rehearsing a polite “¿Puedes poner otra de Romeo?” but what actually slid […]