Punta Cana Research Paper
Several summers ago, shortly after I graduated 6th grade, my mother and I took the pilgrimage that all East Coasters with a week of free time and a fresh passport must take. By this, of course, I refer to seven days of good old fun-in-the-sun in a Caribbean resort. Like many other families, we had planned to go directly to the resort town of Punta Cana, in the Dominican Republic, until our flight back to New York departed a week later. And so it was, for several days at least. But lazy afternoons and evenings on the beach can become stale after a while. It was pleasant, for sure, but not stimulating. Punta Cana hadn’t captured my attention as the bright lights of Hong Kong or the ancient history of London had. There was no local flair, nothing
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This street was the supposed commercial heart of Santo Domingo, host to an old local handicraft market selling handmade artesanias and atmospheric movie palaces, with architecture left over from the glory and opulence of the Trujillo age. A neighborhood stroll would make a fine introduction to the city; after all, in many ways local neighborhoods reveal the character of a destination more than the mainstream, downtown areas do. Upon parking our car and turning the corner unto Avenida Mella, I was immediately met with the sight of garbage, strewn all over the street in clumps of disorganized plastic bags. In an instant I understood that all that I had read in the tourist guidebooks about the area was a lie. As we walked forward I saw no resemblance or even hint of the old elegance or development that was once here. The signs of the old cinemas were crumbling, with the decorated letters on the signs missing or crumbled to the point of total unrecognition. Graffiti covered shabby metal barricades which protected stores never to be open for business. The grand mercado, the standout building of the area, seemed to be the only place of commercial activity in the area. But it, too, was abandoned on the inside, with the building instead used as a refuge for the homeless, offering no services but protection from the elements. I
This street was the supposed commercial heart of Santo Domingo, host to an old local handicraft market selling handmade artesanias and atmospheric movie palaces, with architecture left over from the glory and opulence of the Trujillo age. A neighborhood stroll would make a fine introduction to the city; after all, in many ways local neighborhoods reveal the character of a destination more than the mainstream, downtown areas do. Upon parking our car and turning the corner unto Avenida Mella, I was immediately met with the sight of garbage, strewn all over the street in clumps of disorganized plastic bags. In an instant I understood that all that I had read in the tourist guidebooks about the area was a lie. As we walked forward I saw no resemblance or even hint of the old elegance or development that was once here. The signs of the old cinemas were crumbling, with the decorated letters on the signs missing or crumbled to the point of total unrecognition. Graffiti covered shabby metal barricades which protected stores never to be open for business. The grand mercado, the standout building of the area, seemed to be the only place of commercial activity in the area. But it, too, was abandoned on the inside, with the building instead used as a refuge for the homeless, offering no services but protection from the elements. I