My Day, Part 2

So we pick up this other guy and he says that he will drive from La Vega to the capital. No problem there. Who could drive more dangerously than a tailgater like Rafael? Well, for one, someone who drives in excess of 90 miles an hour on the highways here, is at least tied with Rafael. I thought, a couple of times, that I was going to shit my pants, or die. A couple of times I was close to both. They were busy jabbering away in Spanish up in the front front so I disappeared into my Blackberry. Only Coldplay going and coming. In addition I have a Texas Hold'em game downloaded so that helped to keep my attention from his driving, as well. I have been to Santo Domingo enough time to know my way around the city. I don't know the names of any of the sections other than the Malecon which is the area fronting on the ocean (Mar Caribe). I was under the impression that I knew where we were going and when we found ourselves off the main highway and on city streets that were clogged with traffic moving at a snail's pace I asked if we were going someplace else. I was told that Perroa had gotten off the highway too soon and now we were forced to endure the traditionally horrific Santo Domingo traffic. Finally we got to the building that I thought we were going to and of course we couldn't find anywhere to park, so Rafael and I were dropped off. We were at the Custums (Aduanas) building. Not particularly impressive from the outside. We went to a desk with three women sitting at it. We had to wait in line so that Rafael could announce that we were there with an appointment to the woman on the right, who in turn passed us on to the woman in the middle, WHO IN TURN PASSED US ON TO THE WOMAN ON THE LEFT. Typical Dominican Efficiency. Believe it or not, she sent us to the desk opposite hers. By this time, about 20 minutes, Perroa had parked the car and joined us. As we were waiting at the last desk he called upstairs to the person we were there to see who then called down to the desk to authorize our passage to her 4th floor office. As soon as we went inside I was struck by the number of paintings and sculptures. They were everywhere you looked. As we waited for the elevator the power went out. I didn't want to take a chance on getting stuck if it went out again while we were in the elevator so I announced that I was walking up, and they decided to join me. As we walked up the artwork increased in volume. They were crammed against one another on the walls in the hallways and stairways. Some looked very costly and all were accompanied by a plaque telling about the artist. Many were very well known. Some were quite stunning and others were quite horrible. I could have filled my phone with photos, but I was afraid that some self important security guard would hassle me for my picture taking so I only snapped a few.