Monte Christi Symphony

Ionarts correspondent Mark Barry continues his holiday visit to the Dominican Republic.

1:45 am. After 4 hours of sound sleep we are awakened by the sharp, shrill call of a very large rooster. Then the mournful wail of a dog, followed by a tribe of neighborhood dogs. The chorus grows, joined from many directions. From what was one, now there are hundreds of dogs howling, whimpering, and wailing. Aside from an occasional rooster, the dog lament will continue for hours. Throughout, the faint rhythm of crickets ties this organic composition together.

4 am. A moped sputters and starts, then slowly drives away; a rooster responds loudly. Then it’s quiet. Once again, from under my window a loud burst of rooster. From the distance many roosterian replies. Over the next hour this will grow to literally thousands of birds throughout the town calling, wailing, calling; the distant meld sounds like human moaning.

By 6 am, more mopeds start, toilets flush, voices call out; a magnificent sunrise appears over the ocean. Birds begin their own routine, chirping along with baaa-ing goats and an occasional pig grunt. Buenos días!