Most who know me well know that I love MSU basketball, and that March Madness is a season of spiritual importance surpassed only by Easter and Christmas. My Spartans have now gone to the final four two years in a row, and despite my remote location, I have been able to find my way to a television in the capital to watch.
When it comes to watching sports, there is really only one place in Santo Domingo to go. It is called, appropriately, "The American Sports Bar," though it is not owned or operated by Americans. In fact the only thing "American" about the place is the hamburgers.
I actually think the Sports Bar may be a Mafia bar. When you approach the front door, the gun toting guard swipes you with a medical detector before you step inside. He also asks you to remove your hat. You step into a dimly lit, wood paneled room with television sets covering most of the walls, displaying just about every sporting event taking place in the world at that moment. There is a betting window in the back corner, in case you feel lucky.
All of the wait staff are young women, and every single customer is a man (except for the occasional female peace corps volunteer). They watch the various games in stoney faced silences, moving only to munch their food or sip their drinks. They don't even cheer for their favorite teams!
Last night, my friends and I learned that cheering is actually frowned upon at this establishment. We were watching the championship game, and some of the members of our entourage were very much hoping for a Butler victory (I remain neutral on this point. I had trouble choosing between the team I hate with fervor normally reserved for Yankees, and the team that beat my own team one game early, but this is a topic for discussion elsewhere.). Anyway, as the game reached it's final moments with the score remaining close, our little group of Americans began to make some noise. It was nothing too obnoxious. Just some moans when Duke did well, and some shouts of joy when Butler had something happen. But the bouncer (the guy with the metal detector) was not happy. He came and spoke to us three times about our noise level, and on the third time threatened to have us removed from the premises. Yikes.
I've been in this country for more than two years, and there are some things that still don't make sense to me. When on an airplane, Dominicans will whoop, holler, and cheer like it's new years when the plane lands successfully. Every time. Yet in a SPORTS BAR, cheering is forbidden? I guess I still have a few things to learn.
