Christmas lasts until the Epiphany on January 6, not because the liturgical calendar says that the season has twelve days, but because the commemoration of the Three Kings’ visit to the Christ child is the traditional time for giving gifts, especially to children. In some families Santa Claus brings presents to the kids on Christmas, but in most homes the Three Kings still bring them on January 6—which is also a national holiday. In the US Christmas is pretty much over and done with on December 26, but in the DR it lingers on until Twelfth Night.
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The Coca-Cola Christmas tree in
Plaza de la Hispanidad, by night |
So Christmas here extends over three months. It doesn’t come to an intense climax in a few weeks, and then suddenly expire. It slowly gathers momentum over many weeks, and then basks for a while longer in the glow of the star. Dominicans are not unaffected by the frenzy of materialistic consumerism that characterizes Christmas in the US, particularly when it comes to children. They are lavish with their kids. There is indeed some splurging, fueled by the legal requirement that everyone be paid double their monthly salary in December. But the ads in the newspapers seldom portray luxury items like perfume and jewelry, or electronics, or stylish clothing etc. They mostly feature fine foods, wines and liquors, sweets, fruits (particularly apples and grapes) and nuts. In other words, the Dominican seasonal excess is more a matter of feasting than accumulating things.
North American culture has always harbored puritanical objections to Christmas—it’s too pagan, it’s too materialistic, it’s too intemperate, etc. In contrast, Dominican culture welcomes Christmas without reservation. In one sense, the Dominican perspective is more profoundly incarnational. If the Word has indeed become flesh, then true joy in any and all of its human forms points somehow to Christ.
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Children of the Ovejitas de la Epifanía pre-school enjoying their Christmas party |
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Children of the Ovejitas de la Epifanía pre-school enjoying their Christmas party |
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| Outdoor ornaments line the streets |
Fireworks are a big part of the Christmas celebration |
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| Crèche at the Cathedral |
April’s pre-school class with the Christmas mural that she helped them make |
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Current seminarians at the Christmas party with
Digna Cuevas, the cook, and Margot Torres, the maid |
April and Michael at the seminary Christmas party |
From time to time we have mentioned our two dogs in these chronicles. We weren’t planning to have any pets, but they more or less fell into our care. Both are a little over two years old. Milly, who looks like a typical Santo Domingo street dog, was born soon after we arrived here. Her mother belonged to the long-time sacristan of the Church of the Epiphany. He and his family migrated to New York, leaving behind their pregnant pet. She had four pups—her eighth or ninth litter, as far as we can tell—and died soon thereafter from a huge tumor. One of the pups didn’t survive, we gave two away, and we kept one—Milly. Her accomplice, Otto, is the giant offspring of a German shepherd and a Rottweiler who both belonged to Father Bruno, the former vicar of Epiphany. He retired and took his dogs back to Haiti, leaving one behind in joint care of the new sacristan and us. Milly and Otto recently had six pups, all of which we have given away. And now that she’s neutered, there won’t be any more. Two dogs are quite enough for us to manage, given our living situation.
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One of the street dogs that hang out near the supermarket
taking it easy on the sidewalk |
Otto, Milly and one of the pups in the kitchen
eagerly awaiting a handout |
In addition to the usual rewards and frustrations of having pets, we have discovered that there are big cultural differences with regard to dogs. For many Dominicans, dogs are distant, dirty and dangerous. Their main function is to be watchdogs, and the common opinion is that they do this best when they are kept mean and hungry. They are often tied up all day, fed only table scraps, and let loose to roam the property at night, to ward off intruders. Sometimes watchdogs live on the flat roofs of the houses that they guard without ever coming down. From this vantage point they can spot prowlers and scare them away. Other dogs roam the streets. They aren’t exactly wild, but they don’t really belong to anyone, and they live off the garbage left on the sidewalks. Under such circumstances dogs tend to be very wary, and hostile toward any human beings that come close. And the feeling is mutual.
Thus many people thought it very strange that we let the dogs into our apartment. They were amazed that Milly and Otto didn’t automatically bark at them and try to bite them, and that such wild animals could be taught to obey simple commands like “sit!” or “lie down!”—and they would be even more amazed if our pets were really obedient and well trained. The children at the pre-school see us relating to our dogs with a closeness that their parents find strange, and they appear to be getting the idea that dogs can be companions.
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Three of Otto and Milly’s six offspring |
It’s generally accepted here that dogs have litter after litter. When we mentioned neutering Milly and Otto so that they couldn’t have puppies, people thought we were perverse. Allowing one litter was our concession to popular opinion. Dog food is a luxury that most people can’t afford, even if they thought it was a good idea. Sometimes buying it makes us feel unconscionably extravagant, but we can’t imagine feeding them just chicken bones with leftover rice and beans, which is what most Dominican dogs live on.
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April and Michael with pups |
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Simeon and Rosa with Rocky |
We have come to realize that our concept of a “pet” is a culturally conditioned result of our relative affluence. It doesn’t make us feel superior. On the other hand, the Dominican concept of “dog” doesn’t seem very humane either. It often leads to cruel treatment of our fellow creatures. In the final analysis maybe the criterion should be, not what we or Dominicans prefer to think, but what’s best for dogs.
For us personally, our best Christmas gift was the visit of our oldest son Simeon and his wife Rosa.
They live part of the year in Austin and part in Quito. Simeon is finishing up his doctoral dissertation in linguistic anthropology, focusing on the indigenous languages of Latin America. Rosa is an architect and urban planner. They managed to find time to spend with us over the holidays, and their presence made the season merry indeed.
Peace on earth,
Michael and April
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