It was supposed to be a wholistic weekend: A sleepy fishing village, long morning sunrise runs on the beach, drinking nothing but coconut milk straight from the coco, eating only freshly fallen mangos and grilled fish, soaking up the sun with waves lapping at my toes, catching up on my reading and my yoga.....
Instead,  we ended up meeting two skinny afro-haired island boys with smiles that could break your heart, eating a montón de tostones and pizza, sleeping in late, drinking cerveza, and dancing bachata and merengue into the wee small hours of the morning. 

We arrived in Las Galeras on a Monday morning after a 3 hour bus trip to Sámana and an additional 1 hour miniguagua ride to the end of the peninsula where the quiet town of Las Galeras lays nestled between beaches and mountains. 

We stayed in the lovely Villa La Plantacion. A colonial-style hotel with beautiful grounds and an amazing pool. The place is owned and managed by Remy, a friendly French ex-pat that was only all too happy to help us out with whatever we needed.  The rooms were nothing to write home about, but they were clean and spacious with hot water, and for the price of 2000 pesos ($50) per night, they were more than sufficient. Being located a mere 3 minutes walk from the beach and right in the center of town, it was a great location and worth a recommendation. 

After a lovely grilled fish lunch, we strolled down the beach and sneakily commandeered a few lounge chairs from the nearby all-inclusive resort. And there we lounged lazily for the rest of the day, reading our books and hiding our un-wrist banded arms from security whenever the passed by. 

After a long snooze and hot shower, we headed back into town for the night to russle up some grub. 

We decided on a crispy ham, mushroom, and olive pizza. And by olive, they meant "one" olive, haha. Oh well, it was still deelish. 

Scuffilufigus came sniffing around for a slice too. He apparently belonged to the establishment, but looked like he had spent all day skipping along the beach and rolling around in the salt water and sand. 
Amy and I kept trying to catch Scruffilufigus´s attention while we were eating, and likewise so did the two chicos that came in and ordered cerveza at the table nearby....and from there a friendship was formed. From the pizza joint we headed over to a nearby disco, ordered up a couple rounds of Presidente, and swayed the night away. 

Conveniently, our new friends worked on the boats that carry tourists too and from the surrounding beaches on the rocky coast line. After walking us back to our hotel they agreed to meet up with us again in the morning for a trip to Playa El Rincón.

Still looking a little sleepy!

Playa Rincón is a long stretch of silky, golden-sanded beach bordered by a forest of palm trees. The waters are the purest color of turquoise you will ever lay eyes on and the waves are so gentle, they just lap at the edge of the sand begging you to come in and play.  Being off season and still fairly early in the morning, we had the entire beach to ourselves for several hours. 

I did squeeze in a run (finally!) down the length of the beach, and then it was back to catching rays and catching up on reading. 

We had lunch at Rincón Rubi. The Mahi Mahi (Dorado en español) was fresh and the food was satisfying, but as a whole, overpriced. Although most Americans might be willing to shell out 450 pesos (almost $12) for this meal, it was definitely stretching my Dominican budget.  

After lunch our friends led us to the adjoining beach. Here the waters were rough and the waves rolled in with impressive height and speed. We dove head long into the rush and tried our best at body surfing- swimming for shore with all our might in an attempt to catch the waves rolling in behind us. I´m not going to lie, a took a few pretty good tumbles and ended up being rolled around like a sack of potatoes under water and spit out a little banged up but none the worse for wear down the shoreline. So much fun :)

For dinner our friends came back to reclaim us on there motos and we took a rocky, starlit (literally starlit in my case since my moto was missing a front headlight)  ride up the mountainside to El Cabito, a famous cliffside restaurant with a cozy Caribbean atmosphere, amazing views and spectacular food. (Anthoney Bordain ate here on his recent trip to the D.R.)

The owners are friendly German ex-pats, so its only appropriate our tables would be lit with beer stein candles. 

More dancing after dinner! 

If you´re ever in Las Galeras, definitely hit up El Cabito for dinner, and make the trip to Playa Rincón by boat- ask for Emiliano or Luis (Rambo) if you can. It´s a pretty sleepy town, but they´ll happily show you around and give you a fair price for the boat ride. 

Finally Wednesday morning rolled around and it was time to stretch and yawn and head home, looking back one last time just to catch the gently swaying palm trees waving goodbye.

Ok so maybe it wasn´t quite the billionth, but it´s easily one of my favorite local spots here in Santiago. 

I mean, just look at it. It´s so darn cute-- all lit up like and twinkly like Christmas!
And see how pretty the tables!-- each with its own vase of flowers and porcelain elephant candle. 
Soft Spanish ballads drift in the background, setting the mood nicely. 
But don´t be fooled,  underneath the dainty charm is a menu that packs a seriously meaty punch.   
And the best (most dangerous) part, it´s only two blocks from my house! Just close enough for me to catch the sizzling smell of hamburgers on the breeze every once in a while, wafting through my open windows at night and calling me back.

Often times, Tío Pappy, a Canadian expat, will be out to take your order himself, so you know the service is going to be good. And if he isn´t the one taking your order, you can be sure he´ll stop by your table later to chat and make sure everything is alright, which makes for a very home-y, easy going atmosphere.  

After you place your order, he´ll be back in a few with a bowl full of mixed nuts and your drinks, so you are free to nibble and sip and chat while you wait for the main event. 

Everything on the menu is good, trust me, I know, but what Tío Pappy does best is burgers. And I´m not talking your typical grass-fed, dry Dominican burger, I´m talking a big, juicy, flavor-packed hunk of meat, dripping with gooey-cheesy goodness and all the fixins´. 

Since the grill is located inside Tio Pappy´s garage, you can go sneak a peak to watch the burgers sizzle if you´d like. 

Just look at that beauty; that´s a two-hander for sure. 

Of course, once you see the burger up close and in person, you might have second thoughts as to whether you´ll be able to finish the whole thing or not. At this point, you might considering calling out to Tio Pappy to come back with a big knife to cut the burger in two, that way you can save the other half for later.
This would be a mistake. I can tell you from personal experience (as I´ve tried this method on various occasions), you´re going to eat the whole thing. You might not think so, but you will.
 It´s that good. 

Cheers to Tío Pappy! 

If you want to check it out for yourself they are open every Wednesday through Saturday from 5:00 p.m.- 9:00 p.m.  I don´t know the exact address- but they are located in La Zurza, on calle 16 de Agosto, 2 blocks up from Avenida Francia. Just follow your nose :)

I woke up with the sunshine this morning. Stretching up sleepily, I reached for my toes, rolled out bed,  and tied on the tennies. It was time for my sunrise Tuesday/Thursday run. 
After a nice, heart-pounding jog, I was wide awake and ready to tackle some end-of-the-semester school work. Piropo wanted to help.

Ok, so that's a bit of a lie. I wanted Piropo to help, mainly in the form of reassuring snuggles....instead he spent most of the time trying vigorously to evade my clutches. 

Finally, I gave up the Elvira charade and settled back into my comfy bed to finish up my work-- snuggle-less, sadly, but much more productive. 

After a good bit of grading, I was feeling hungry, so I whipped up an Arepa de Maiz and popped it into the oven. It also seemed like a good time to do the weekly wash while it was baking. 

This time, I did have some willing helpers. 

Finally, with the clothes drying on the line, and the scent of warm vanilla wafting through the kitchen,  it was time for breakfast. 

So I headed to the patio, cut myself a nice big chunk of cake, and washed it down with a cold cup of green tea as my lovely city bustled to life below.
I just love mornings in Santiago. 

I've graded a lot of papers this semester....

I've graded them at resorts...

I've graded them at dinner.....

I've graded them at breakfast....

I've graded them at the beach....

And this weekend, I even had a grading party!

Of course, I always find its easier to do a tough task when there is some kind of reward involved to make it go down a bit smoother....in this case, my Mom's world famous cookie bars.

Danielle agrees :)

Finally, finally, finally, the last day of the semester arrived (yesterday). Which means my grading days are over! (For a while at least)

A few of us girls went out for well-deserved celebratory drink at Bene,  a swanky little cocktail bar with a nice chill vibe and big comfy couches to sink into and relax. 

Classes don't start up again until the first week of May.  Let the playing begin!

You may have noticed the sparseness with which I've been updating you on my adventures lately. There's a good reason for that: my Academic Writing class is killing me (Even now I'm hastily throwing this post together under a fluorescent light bulb at 11:00 p.m. while a stack of essays is sitting beside me calling my name.)
The thing is, and you've probably figured this out by now, but I love to write! So teaching an Academic Writing class should be right up my ally. And it is. Helping my students to express their ideas and become creative thinkers and writers, it's one of the best classes I could have been assigned to teach. 
But the grading, ooooohhh the grading. I've literally been spending HOURS upon HOURS reviewing, revising, and editing student essays and exams. And with the end of the semester under 2 weeks away, Iet's just say I've been feeling the crunch. 
It's been consuming me. 
So when an offer to head to the beach came up this Sunday, the angel on my shoulder was all "no way Jose, you've got way too much school stuff to do."  And I almost brushed the idea away without a second thought. But the devil (whose voice sounded suspiciously like Amy's) was all like, "Carpe diem chica!"  You can probably guess which one won out.
So Sunday morning Amy and I caught Caribe tours to Sosua. 
I gotta say, I'm glad I went with the devil on this one.  Just look at these pics! It couldn't have been a more beautiful day.  

Now Sosua is a pretty local beach. You can find a fair amount of tourists there (it actually happens to be the sex-tourism capital of the D.R. so don't be surprised to see old white men hanging out with beautiful young Dominican girls), and there are plenty of English-speaking bars and shops in the vicinity, but the majority of beach-goers will be Dominicans. 
Amy and I found a nice little bar with free chairs and a great menu. 

We plopped ourselves down on the beach, slathered on the sunscreen, and soaked up some rays while we waited for our meals to arrive.
Amy did a little light reading (if you can call Ayn Rand light reading), and I sipped on a cold beer while grading papers (I couldn't leave them completely behind!). 

Lunch time! They brought it right down to the beach for us. We didn't have to move a muscle. Talk about service. 

After stuffing ourselves to the gills, we laid back to snooze and people watch, occasionally getting up to dip our toes in the cooling waves. 

We also did a little on-sight shopping.

Nothing like a new pair of shades and a day at the beach to put things into perspective. Yep, now I have to make up for lost time and stay up later/wake up earlier to get all my grading done, but was it worth it? Totally. My grading will get done. It always does, but I can't make up for those moments I miss traveling and spending time with friends. It's good to be dedicated to your job, but every once in a while you have to take a step back, breathe, and refocus on the important things in life. Two months from now those essays will be ancient history, but I will remember this trip to the beach. I'll remember how awesome the fresh-caught fish tasted and how stunningly blue the water was. I'll remember bargaining for a pair of sunglasses and that feeling of adventure after having to flag down a ride to Santiago once we realized we'd missed the last scheduled Caribe tours bus. And another perk? After a little relaxation time, I'm ready to tackle the week head on. 
In a cheesy conclusion, I'm going to leave you with a poem. I first read this poem in middle school and loved it for the simple fact that it contained both my name and my sister's name. Further readings later in life made me fall in love with it for deeper reasons. I think it fits appropriately here. 
Enjoy and remember to treat yourself well this week!

So I spent my Dominican Easter at an Indian hotel hanging out with a bunch of Americans. Yep. Breaking all the traditions this year. 
But let me start from the beginning. 
Traditionally, Dominicans don't seem to have too many traditions regarding Easter. No Easter egg hunts, no chocolate bunnies, no baskets full of goodies on Easter morning, not even a Peep in sight. For a country that is so heavily influenced by the U.S., this one holiday seems to have somehow escaped the clutches of consumerism (which is probably a good thing). They do, however, have one strange tradition: sweet beans. Nope, I'm not talking jelly beans (oh, how I wish!)

Sweet beans, or habichuelas con dulce, are a strange concoction of red beans, sweet potato, milk, coconut milk, sugar, raisins, cinnamon, and other spices, all stewed and creamed together to form a soupy pudding and served up with mini vanilla wafer-like cookies. Every Dominican family has their own secret recipe and its traditionally eaten the first and last week of Lent, although nobody seems to know why. Even the end-all be-all source of information, the world-wide-web, couldn't explain the origin or tradition behind this interesting dish. Mysterious. 
I tried it once. 
Let's just say its an acquired taste. 
Dominicans would beg to differ though. I polled all my students (that's about 80) to see what their favorite part of Easter was, and at least half of them claimed it was habichuelas con dulce.
I just don't understand. 
This is one tradition I'll let the Dominican Republic keep for itself. 
The only other custom associated with Easter (and this is really a custom for all Dominican holidays) is to head to the beach and drink copious amounts of rum (which is what the other half of my students claimed was their favorite part) Now a beach vacation is definitely a tradition I can get behind. 
And that was my original plan for Thursday and Friday of Semana Santa (holy week).
Mother nature had different ideas. After a sweltering hot start to the week, Thursday through Sunday turned into one of the coldest, rainiest weekends of the year. Good thing I also had plans to go to the mountains! Gotta have all your bases covered here :) 
So after a restful Thurday and Friday in Santiago, I loaded up in a mini guagua with a herd of Hub friends and headed up to the hills (woah, look at those alliteration skills, I wasn't even trying!)

Our destination was the Blue Moon, an eclectic Indian retreat nestled on a lush and fairly secluded mountainside. 

The whole trip was organized by the Hub, and was open to all Hub members and friends. It was a pretty large crowd, including plenty of old friends I hadn't seen in a while and new faces I'd never met before. So we all gathered around the bar to grab a drink and mingle. One of the best parts about being involved with the Hub is that everyone is fascinating. Really. They are. Everyone has a different story, a different experience, and a unique perspective; it makes for lively conversations, especially when everyone is sipping on the Blue Moon Special :)

Then it was time to take our bags to our spacious and charmingly decorated cabins and wash up for dinner. The tantalizing scent of curry had us all drifting back towards the dining area in no time. 

In true Indian fashion, we sat cross-legged on cushions with leaves for plates and flickering luminaries to provide a slightly magical aura. 

The owner of the retreat came out to explain each course and to teach us how to eat Indian style; that is, without silverware and only using the right hand. 

And then came the food: Corn and plaintain fritters, carrot-raisin-peanut salad, curried vegetables, fall-off-the-bone tender spiced chicken, jasmine rice, and a series of intriguing and finger-lickingly delicious sauces.

We feasted....

....until we could feast no more. 

Then the little 'uns came out to dance and entertain while we sipped on coffee and tea and groaned about how happy and full we were while we waited for dessert (of course there is always room for dessert.)

One of the most adorable couples ever. 

Dessert, a perfect blend of creamy yogurt, fruit, and toasted coconut, was the perfect way to end the night. Not too long after we all drifted dreamily back to our cabins and into a peaceful sleep. 

The next morning we were up-and-adam early for a sunrise service. 
Happily holding our warm coffees and teas, sweetened with dollops of sugar and fresh cows milk, we filled the morning air with hymns and laughter at our sometimes off-key attempts. To tell the truth though, I like that we sometimes sing off-key. I know that God doesn't mind, he's just happy we are all there together, and for me, that's more beautiful than any song in perfect pitch. 

Aside from being slightly out of tune, one of our two trays full of the Body of Christ may have accidentally ended up spilled all over the sidewalk. Somehow, I think Jesus might have gotten a good chuckle out of that. The good thing about the Body of Christ though, no matter what happens there's always enough to go around :)

Next it was time for an Easter Egg hunt! As I explained earlier, its not a tradition here, but a visiting Hub friend from the U.S. brought down loads of plastic eggs and candy especially for the occasion. We filled up the eggs with all sorts of chocolaty goodies and hid them around the yard. 

After enjoying the kiddos' mad scramble to find the hidden eggs, it was time for breakfast and the ride back down the mountain. 

All in all, a beautiful Easter with beautiful people. 
Thanks so much to Elaine and Marcos for bringing us all together!

I love being in the kitchen.  I really do. The simple process of cleaning, cutting, measuring, stirring....it's soothing. There's nothing better than putting a swinging Latin rhythm on in the background, slipping into an apron, and letting all the worries of the world just melt away, like butter in my saucepan. For a moment, I can get lost, just letting my mind stretch out and wander while my hands do the work, or letting it fall into concentration with the rhythm of chopping onions. It makes me happy. But the best part of course, the end: getting to create happiness and share it with my friends. 

Yesterday I decided to create some happiness in the form of Chicago Style Pizza. Could any meal say "love" better than homemade deep dish pizza? 
Now any good Illinioan (Illini?) will tell you that it all starts with the dough. And we're not talking your regular pizza crust here, we're talking a soft, buttery, biscuit-y miracle. 

Take advantage of the time needed for the dough to rise to make your sauce. 

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ cup grated onion
¼ teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon salt
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
¼ teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper

"Heat the butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat until melted. Add onion, oregano, and salt; cook, stirring occasionally, until liquid has evaporated and onion is golden brown, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in tomatoes and sugar, increase heat to high, and bring to a simmer. Lower heat to medium-low and simmer until reduced to about 2½ cups, 25 to 30 minutes. Off the heat, stir in the basil and olive oil, then season with salt and pepper." (Recipe courtesy Brown Eyed Baker)

And if you have any leftover time, well you can use it to paint your fingernails. 
Oooooo pretty. 

Now its time to laminate the dough, if you chose recipe 1 that is.  Don't worry if you don't have a rolling pin, you can always improvise :)

Next step, cook up the rest of your toppings.  
For Dough Recipe 1, I decided to keep it traditional and go with the standard sausage topping. 
For Dough Recipe 2, since it was a healthier version made with whole wheat flour and olive oil, I stayed with the wholesome theme and made sauteed spinach., 

The end results were beautiful.

And there wasn't a single piece left-over. In fact, the spinach version, to my surprise, was the first to go. It even provoked the height of Dominican compliments, "Ya te puedes casar," literally translated, "Now you can get married," figuratively, "You really know how to cook." 

We spent the rest of the night chatting away, teaching each other salsa steps, and dancing off our meal: food for the body and food for the soul. 

When a friend invites you and your amigas to an all-inclusive horseback riding trip in the campo (countryside)...well you pretty much HAVE to say yes. So on Sunday morning, Christina, Amy and I piled into Jean's (pronounced like John but with a much prettier soft J sound) little car and headed out to Mao, a small town located about an hour outside of Santiago. 

Of course no Dominican road trip would be complete without a Presidente pit stop. 

Beers in hand, sun shining, and radio jamming, we continued our cruise down the high way. 

So the back story here is that Jean's family owns several rice farms. In addition to their many work horses, they also have about 5 horses that they raise and train for show. We were going to get to ride the show horses.  However, there was a minor problem: none of us girls actually knew how to ride a horse.  I mean sure we'd all ridden a horse before. Who hasn't been on one of those "horseback riding adventures" where you a pay a company to saddle you up onto a tired old creature that knows the trail so well all you have to do is sit back and wiggle your butt cheeks every now and then to keep them from getting saddle sore? 
Well this was NOT that kind of horseback riding. 
This was legit. 

Jean and his trainer, Jeancarlos, gave us a brief run-down of the basics (pull the reins right to go right, left for left, back to stop),  then threw us up onto the horses and gave them a nice swat on the rump, sending us galloping off.
Ok, so they didn't actually give the horses a swat on the rump.  But the horses did gallop off. They had a mind of their own, those things. 
After the initial shock of trying to reign in a 600 pound galloping beast wore off, we were able to steer the horses into doing a couple laps around the training ring to get our bearings. Then it was time to take our beauties out on the town and test our new-found skills. 

Once on the road, Campanero (my horse) and I took the lead. Apparently Campanero was feeling fleet-footed, but that was fine by me, apparently I like going fast too :)

Isn't she darling?

After trotting through the streets and waving at all the locals (gringas on parade!),  we made our way out of town and down to the river. That's where the real adventure began. 

Now an immense amount of credit needs to be given to Jeancarlos here. It was his lot to ride Scrappy. Scrappy (our affectionate nickname, I'm unsure what he was actually called) was a dappled gray with, too put it mildly, a rambunctious nature.  In fact, I'm fairly certain the horse was trying to kill Jeancarlos on a number of separate occasions throughout the trip, as he would spontaneously break into wild bucking streaks in an attempt to throw off his rider.  Jeancarlos not only managed to ride and reign-in his ill-spirited mount, but, like a true Dominican, he did so one handed-- the other hand being occupied by an open bottle of rum. And the most remarkable part: never once while the horse was pulling his rodeo bronco stunts did Jeancarlos spill a single drop of rum. 

It's getting deep boys!

At one point, the saddle on Amy's horse fell off--- Amy fell off with it. 

But sliding off the saddle was child's play compared to the next leg of the journey. Eventually we came to a particularly muddy spot of the river that had to be crossed.  The ground on the bank appeared to be solid, but as soon as the horses stepped onto the area, they would sink nearly up to the top of their legs in mud. There was drier land just to the side of the mud pit, but unfortunately, this land was occupied by a number of stumpy thorn trees with low hanging branches. The panicky horses, trying to escape the sinking mud pit, would rear up and leap towards the drier ground (with alarming force, might I add), inevitably hurling us frightened riders into a net of needles.
Eventually we all managed to untangle ourselves, but not without a few good scratches along the way. But what´s an adventure without a few battle scars?

Salvache, our trusty side-kick!

Jean and Jeancarlos led the way down the river, sharing the bottle of rum between them, and discussing where would be an appropriate place to stop and play. 

And by play, I mean swim. Fully clothed of course, since none of us brought our bikinis. And what the heck, we were already wet and muddy anyways. 

We splished and splashed and sipped on warm wine and rum until the sun sank down to the tops of the trees. 

Then it was time to hop back on the horses and hustle back to town before night-fall to russel up some grub. 

Jean led us to a local outdoor grill right on the riverside and ordered up a feast. 

Truly Dominican style food with all the fixin's: grilled pork and barbecued chicken, piping hot tostones, and mofongo. 

What's mofongo you say? Well sir (or madam), you don't know what you are missing. Probably one of the most traditional Dominican dishes on the island (right up there with sanchocho and mangú), it consists of fried tostones that have been mashed up with garlic and formed into the lovely  "upside-down bowl" shape you see above. The inside of the bowl can be stuffed with any number of goodies, but this particularly naughty little fella was stuffed with chicharrones, crispy fried pork skin dripping with greasy goodness and lending a nice smoky flavor. Serve it all up with a side of chicken broth for dipping, and you´ve got one serious meal on your hands.

Covered in mud, still dripping wet, and looking like wild barefoot little Indian princesses,  we saddled up our mounts and trotted back home under the stars in a daze of food-induced happiness and the best kind of adventure-worn weariness. 
Mucho amor y gracias a Jean y Jeancarlos!

The adventure started with a pre-planning session at Bella Terra Mall on Saturday night. Ok, so maybe "pre-planning" session is a bit of an exaggeration. We really just went to see Ryan Gosling. 
Fine, I'm exaggerating again. Ryan Gosling wasn't at Bella Terra Mall (Darn it). But he WAS in the movie we went to see: Fuerza Antiganster....or as you Yankees might know it, Gangster Squad, newly arrived in the D.R. this weekend after its initial release in the U.S. over a month ago. 

Of course we had to treat ourselves to a little snack.

I mean, what's a movie without the traditional popcorn and beer combination?

After a good two hours of thoroughly enjoyable gun-slinging, we were finally ready to get down to business...over mojitos of course (blackberry, strawberry, and chinola flavors).

Let the planning begin! 
In about a half hour it was all settled. We'd meet at 9:30 a.m. Sunday morning to tackle the highest peak in the Santiago province: Diego de Ocampo. 

For those of you Santiagueros looking to adventure to Diego de Ocampo for yourselves, catch an M concho to a crossroads called "La Reforma." Wait there patiently for the "guagua para los cocos" to pass by and flag it down. Then hop in, pay your driver a whopping 20 pesos, and sit back until he drops you off in the nearby town of "Los Cocos." 

Now once you arrive in Los Cocos you have two options: Option A, make friends with a local and find a ride up to the entrance of the actual hike via jeep/truck/motoconcho. Option B, walk it yourself. 
Being well and seasoned adventurers, we opted for B.

Little did we know, the walk just to get to the entrance is probably 7 or 8 kilometers in itself, straight up hill. 
Locals kept stopping us to ask where we were going, and then laughed incredulously when we told them our final destination.
"A pie?!" they exclaimed. 

But we didn't mind. We had all day to enjoy the sights. 

Hydration is key!

Mountain top baseball. Probably the most awesome baseball field on the planet. 

After what seemed like miles of walking, we finally caught the first glimpse of our actual destination. See that peak in the background....that's where we were headed! Looks pretty far, right? Ya, that was my thought exactly. 

Good thing there was a strategically placed bench to take a quick break. 

Hot sun, rocky path, steep hill. Things were getting rough. 

Giant fallen tree blocking the path. No big deal. 

Time to earn those buns of steel.

3 1/2 hours and a few muddy tennis shoes later, we made it!
 Valió cada segunda de la pena. 

I´m queen of the world!

If we had any hope that the hike back down would be less treacherous, that illusion was quickly shattered by the number of times we fell on our butts trying to keep from tumbling down the mountainside head first. The goats didn´t seem to have as much trouble. 

Let´s take one last long look at that infamous peak where Diego de Ocampo, a rebel slave leader, hid away between his plantation plundering campaigns. 
Kudos to you, Diego, because that was one tough climb.  I´ll be feeling that in my legs all week. If I were a Spaniard, I wouldn´t want to follow you up there either. 

A little ice cream victory celebration was just the trick to make us forget our aching calfs and quads. 

We left Diego de Ocampo sweaty, sun-burned, sore muscled, and all smiles. Just like proper little adventurers should be. 

It had been a long week. My body was drained from last Sunday's efforts in the 10K and my mind was exhausted after meticulously planning lessons, grading presentations, and correcting an overwhelming amount of essays, and I still wasn't caught up. So when Sunday rolled around, I was more than happy to put off my "get-up-and-grade" attitude and head and to the Hub service for a mental rewind. 
And, as occasionally happens after all the prayers are said and the coffee is drunk, a small crew of us attendees decided to head out for lunch. Apparently a new Lebanese restaurant had opened up, and it had already been pre-approved by Fabian and Ambar (both peace corp volunteers), who were excited to share their recent culinary discovery with the rest of us. 

Located in a tidy little space just perfect for lunch dates with friends, the first thing you'll see upon entering is a tempting display case full of Lebanese goodies: lamb kebabs, mint salads, hummus, baba ganoush. Whatever Lebanese style food you had your little heart set on, they had it. And to top it off, an array of sticky sweet, traditional Lebanese pastries made with almonds, honey, dates, and phyllo dough. 

And in typical Middle Eastern style, there was even a Hookah if you so desire.

If you are a bit unsure about what Lebanese fare consists of, the most popular and widely-known food is Shawarma....also commonly referred to in the U.S. as a Gyro. I highly recommend this as a starting point if its your first adventure with Lebanese cuisine. Although really, you couldn't go wrong with anything on the menu.
Three of us, myself included, went the Shwarma route. We had the options of choosing our meat: lamb, chicken, of beef; our bread: pan pita (thinner), or pan kebah (more traditional gyro style);  and our sauce: tahini, tatziki , or spicy. 

We all came up with different combinations, but were universally pleased with the final results. 

The others chose meal combinations with a little more variety, and happily passed around samples. 

The crowning joy of the whole meal though? Dessert of course. I had had my eyes on a honey almond cake since we first stepped through the door.  Dense and satisfying. I had absolutely no regrets.

Baklava was another popular and equally scrumptious choice. 
Also, my snap-happiness with the camera may have started a minor hand modeling competition. 
Just look at Jake's elegant positioning: the curve of the wrists, the arc of the knuckles.  A masterpiece I tell you. 

It could only possibly be out shone by Amber's refined, simplistic approach: the single finger. 

Modeling competition aside, the food was excellent: everything bright and fresh and bursting with flavor. The menu is a tad on the pricey side for a Dominican budget, but well worth the occasional splurge. 

I left lunch feeling rejuvenated, both body and soul (amazing how good food and good friends will do that for you), and ready to tackle the stack of Academic Writing essays that were still patiently awaiting the blur of my red pen. 

If you want to enjoy a little slice of Lebanon for yourself, they're located on the 27th de Febrero, right next to Pala Pizza. Or you can check them out here.