For a hell lot of reasons, of which I would like to introduce you to the obvious ones.
When you get to the airport you will basically find something that looks like the house of a Robinson Cruse thats on steroids. No walls, no uniforms, no security check. Complete chaos all over the wooden "house", cumplosary picture taking with local folk dressed girls who make a fake smile faster Monica Lewinsky (which is pretty fast even by global standards). Bu the way, could you say she "Billed" the white house? Maybe.. hm.
Anyway, right after you make your way through the hallway, you will see the result of the Dominican "no signs to tell you what to do" policy: an army of confused tourists who are running from wall to wall like kids in a McDonadls birthday party (Ronald is a scary mo... fucker), you finally get to passport check. Some guy kinda looks at your passport, shots a word at you that he thinks may be in whatever your language is (terribly WRONG in my case), no visa check, no stamping no nothing.
A few more steps and you pass the street musicians who are from the local cloning lab because they are all very black and look exactly the same as everyone else here. For later reference I will mark them with serial numbers (Friday1, Friday2, Friday3).
If you still have the willpower to carry on and have not turned a gun against anyone, finally you find the place where your baggage moves around with a speed of 50 km/hour. Its a shame popcorn is not available, because watching 70+ female german tourists do what resembles a 20 meter steeplechase, with a twist, because if they dont reach the desired "Gepäck"in time, they have to start over again. Its one of those feelings when you would love to help, but OH MY GOD THIS IS FUN TO WATCH!
Walking in a winter jacket in 32 degrees has never felt so awkward before.. I put my "good times" smile on as I step out of the airport to meet Kirill, because I know this is going to be a hell lot of fun.
