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The Zona Colonial tour started out at Parque Colon, where the somewhat “official” hordes of dudes with lamenated “badges” befriend you and then farm you off to who might be the most appropriate underling for the tour. I got Rodolpho, a 40 something dude in a tucked tie-dye, and the choice somewhat dismayed me, since they obviously saw us as a compatible duo. After La Catedral and some other beautiful but barely interesting when lingering too long architectural sites we hit the Haitian area, a slight chaos of sensory overload, boys driving small horses hauling purple sugar cane or crates of fruits and vegetables, street vendors hawking cds and other disposable junklets, aphrodisiac potions, live chicken butchery, the occasional streetside checkers or dominoes matches. Then we ran into Jose Dulac, a famous Dominican drummer I confess I haven’t heard of, who has played all over and lived in Japan and NYC. We talked drums for a while and he told me about this group of drummers called Paleros playing in mata los indios today. There’s a connection, an allegiance even, between drummers, most will admit, the shared modest perspective of towing the line- working your ass off without all the glam at the back of the stage. Wandered around after and finally got in the “zone” for an hour taking photos or so before cabbing it back to hotel luxury. Don’t feel like hitting the Malecon tonight, too much to do in the morning as I am off to Caberete for night-time shark wrestling, star-gliding, and donkey wrangling.