Bachata Beats and Cognitive Breakthroughs I first noticed the magic of language chunking during a late-night domino game in Santiago de los Caballeros. Between slams
The Motoconcho Mistake That Started My Phrasebook Two years into Dominican life I still fumbled change with motoconcho drivers. One afternoon a driver quoted “setenta
The Coconut Invitation I Learned to Decline Last Easter Sunday in Santo Domingo, my neighbor Don Leo waved me over to a beachfront cookout. I
Sweat Drops and Fog Banks It was 7 a.m. in Santo Domingo when the security guard of my building greeted me with, “Papá, hoy hay
Coconut Husks and Color-Coded Bins Saturday mornings in Santo Domingo usually start with the echo of merengue, but one January dawn the soundscape shifted to
Rice Bags, Rain Clouds, and a New Kind of Fluency One gray morning after Hurricane Fiona brushed the Dominican north coast, I joined a relief
Home Run Roars and Goal-Line Gasps A sticky July night in Santiago’s Estadio Cibao I found myself wedged between two Dominican grandmothers who waved plastic
Fade Failures and Fresh Starts in Santo Domingo The first time I walked into Don Kelvin’s barbershop off Avenida Bolívar, bachata trumpets competed with buzzing
A Surprise at the Appliance Store Last August in Santiago de los Caballeros, my blender died mid-batida, leaving half-crushed papaya clinging to the blades like
Brewing Dreams Over Dominican Coffee The first time I tried to convince my Dominican girlfriend to start a joint emergency fund, we were perched on