Day 3-036
2 hrs, 1 .8 kms

Gaspar Hernandez (another revisit) is a bit further inland and is your standard Dominican town. As is my custom in each country I travel to, I decide to check out the cemetery here, with its crowded, multi-tier tombs.

As I snap a quick picture, the caretaker approaches me. I expect a scolding, but instead he invites me to sit down for a chat.

A sad, somber man, he has a lot to say about the state of his country.

"This used to be a safe town. People were hardworking farmers. Nowadays young people don't want to do hard work. They'd rather commit crime... and those who travel abroad can even be worse. They join gangs in the United States, then when they come back here they bring all those criminal tendancies with them." He goes on to tell several stories of gang members who tried to move back here, only to be tracked down and killed.

"There are a lot of young people buried here" he says somberly "...speeding around recklessly on their motorcycles... messing with their phones..."

He doesn't seem to have much positive to say about the future or the upcoming elections.

"I have a daughter in the US. I'd like to visit her--but only visit... My place is here."

I listen, wondering how much of what he's saying is really true, and how much is just and old timer longing for "the good old days"... He does give me a lot of food for thought though...