I, Andy Lee Graham, from Orland, Indiana, USA, witnessed the most irresponsible and shameful display of abuse of another culture in by 15 years of living outside the USA as a world traveler.
This is the man, who refused to say his name or country, and proceeded to insult the USA, and me, when I said, "I am Andy Lee Graham, from the USA."
He has an evil and dangerous mindset, an attitude of complete contempt for the people of the Dominican Republic.
The Whole Story - Sosua Beach, 2 p.m. August 13, 2013
In the early afternoon, I walked down to Sosua Beach, sat down in front of No. 108, the Tropicana, said hi to Josh, and he said, “Your wife is here today.”
I walked over; said hi to Isabelle in Spanish, then said to Alix, “Hola Alix. Como estas?”
Alix is her 2-year old boy, nearly 3. He ignores me, looks around, and seems confused, frightened. I call Isabelle my wife, but she is not my wife. She is a girl who endears herself to me, talks with me, and probably will want a Coca Cola or juice. It is the nature of Sosua.
Today was different. Isabelle wanted 1,000-1,600 pesos because “viernes” (Friday) is Alix’s third birthday. She wants to buy a “biscocho.”
Now, this conversation was going along in Spanish, so I took a pause and thought this out in English. That day was Tuesday, and she needed the money for a Friday birthday for Alix. I still had a couple days to avoid this. He is neither my kid nor my responsibility. And this is not my girlfriend; she’s just a sweet, nice girl that hangs out daily at 108 Tropicana. She is part of the scenery there.
Alix is a pistol. He wandered down the path, up, sat down, and kept starting to cry. I said to him in Spanish, “No llori. Tu estas hombre.”
Josh, the owner of the Tropicana, came along, pulled a menu out Alix’s hand, and sort of fathered him up, prodding in Spanish for him to not cry.
Anyway, I tried to wrap my head around the situation. Isabelle is single mother, good natured, watching her child, and has no money. The kid does not have a father, but he is not my responsibility. Yet she deserves my respect, care and compassion because but for the grace of God, there go I….
Often expats, with our overwhelming amount of money, are generous. Isabelle does not know it, but if she asked for money for the kid, it would be beyond my powers to say no. Nonetheless, she is living a life I do not wish on any girl. But she also is her own boss; she has the inalienable right to live her life as she pleases.
Ok, so I was wrong: She did ask for money for the kid. But I was still two, maybe three days away from Friday, and do not know what a “biscocho is” or why it costs so much money. That is 38 USD, about 4-5 day’s wages here in the Dominican Republic … or a night’s work, in ugly terms.
I wanted the the kid to have a party and this “biscocho,” but I am not in the enabling game of "being a friend."
Ok, so a few cries. The kid was a little annoying, but he is only 2, almost 3 on Friday, and Isabelle is a single mother. And who knows about the father? And I will not ask.
While we were sitting there, this coffee lady came up. I asked Isabelle if she wanted one of the 10 peso cups of coffee. I inquired. There are two options: One is normal coffee, and the other has cinnamon and a lot of sugar, a shot of energy nonetheless. Isabelle said yes, she drunk it. I put my small cup on the table, and Alix wiggled the table. It spilled a little, and Josh came along and wiped down the table. It was family-like, friends being friends.
Then, I stood up and walked to the beach. The man who rents chairs was happy as I dragged one down into the sun. The rest of the group remained.
While I was sitting there, the man above came up to Josh and spoke in English. (That eliminates the man being from the Netherlands. He is not Dutch as is Josh; I think he is German, but I not know.)
He said, “I brought you a gift; you can repay me in beer.”
I thought to myself, “This is not a just comment. A gift is a gift, and it does not require payment.”
This kind of dysfunctional thought process is rampant in Sosua. Many, or most, of the men believe they are making the girls better people by buying them. This city is a confused b-r-o-t-h-el for the most part. All the men are angry because they closed Passions a couple of weeks ago, as if there is some right by a German by the name of Peter to have the B, with menu of prices. I could tell this man was truly not a good person.
I laid on the beach, reading a Clive Cussler book, “The Silent Sea,” then sort of laid the book down and fell asleep close to the waves, truly a long ways from the Tropicana, Josh, Isabelle, and the boy, Alix.
Then I heard a scream in English, “Stop crying! I mean it! You stop crying!”
I looked over the head of my chair, trying to figure out what was going on. Because of breeze off the ocean, the people on the beach, the drone of motorboats, and all this, I could not hear people up at the restaurant, but I heard this.
I thought to myself, “Ok, the kid’s crying has made the guy lose his temper.”
I did not think much about it, except to think that it is sort of silly, as if you can scream down a kid. But I started to worry: Is this Alix, Isabelle’s kid? My temperature rose, and I came out of my thoughts of books, beach, sand and sweat, and I started to wonder: Is this Alix? I feel protective of Alix.
Ok, and three minutes later, I heard a child crying, and I could see the man running to the chairs in the front of the chair at beach. The man is not saying something a 3-year-old could understand. He was scaring the kid senseless, but I could not see the kid. Is it Alix?
Enough is enough! I start to put on my shoes and pack my book. I stood and put on my shirt. Nobody is going to scream at a child on my watch.
As I walked up, I saw Isabelle grab a kid and more or less push the kid off the 2-foot ledge into the sand, getting him out of the way of the man. It was not Alix; it was another kid, maybe 1-2-years old. Who knows? Then Becky comes over from the group of three restaurants and takes the kids with her. These workers at these places are very close: They work together, live together, and work as sort of beach family.
As soon as I had my backpack and shirt on, I walked up and stood in front of the man and said, “Why are you hollering at a 1-year-old kid?”
He started going on and on, expressing complete contempt for the people of Dominican Republic, and then said, “Are you a customer here?”
I said, “Well, yes.”
Josh, the owner, was not going to do much. He obviously wanted this to pass, and I debated with myself whether to strangle this old man. Talking to humans who have contempt for all humans is of no benefit. And, more or less, I set the tone; the locals were all looking at me with the thumbs up, good job, and way to go in their eyes, faces and actions. The goal was accomplished. I doubted he would still have the ability to holler or mistreat anyone there.
I have never seen this man on the beach at No. 108, and I have gone there every day for the last two weeks. Isabelle is a fixture, and Alix is one of the many beach kids. Think about it: This is a beach; it’s not this man, who refused to even admit his name, country or look me in the eye in the end.
I took out my camera and took his photo, and he started saying that Americans are always putting in their nose where it does not belong. He just feels German to me. And he is right: We stopped them in two World Wars.
Superiority and contempt for people in other countries gets out of control. We have to remember that we are always visitors in a foreign country.
I told him, it does not matter what the child does, what the mother does, what the people of this country do. We, me, you - we all need to rise above it and be the best people we can be, and hollering loud enough to have everyone on the beach hear you, not once, but four times, at a 1-2-year-old boy is evil, sick and needs censoring.
I have no mercy here. Send me his name, and I will put his name, his address and a photo of his home on this page. This has to stop.
Think about it: That little kid does not even speak English; he speaks either Spanish or Haitian. The contempt ran rampant in this man; he has no respect for other humans who share the beach.
There is a section in the Bible that says there is always a way out of temptation. I wanted to remove this man from existence, so I needed to leave the beach and my temptation behind.
I truly think this should be taken to the police. There is no reason a foreigner should ever do what this man did to the 1-year-old Dominican boy.
I still do not know what a “biscocho” is and what it means for the “cumpleaños” of 3-year-old Alix. If that little boy would have been Alix … it would have taken all my energy to be civil.
I remember saying, “You need to be civilized.”
Andy Lee Graham Orland, Indiana Hoboontheroad --- A--T yahoo.com Skype + 1- 260-624-4414. Reach me anywhere in the world with this telephone number.
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I dont think I want to make any judgement here as I dont know the whole story. I have kids, I worked with kids when I was younger. I yelled at kids and did not consider it abusive.
Yes it can be overdone and rude and stupid but I never pushed or physically abused any kid.
Kids can be very annoying and parents who ignore their kids when they are annoying are somewhat abusing their responsibilities.
Dont know if the man is German or maybe Austrian, Russian or wherever hes from and how abusive was he other than ranting at a small child.
Not to cool but again to what degree was he abusive with his rant?
Understand if he was really over the top I also would jump up and try to put a stop to it because its no way to treat children but again why didnt the parent try to stop both of them at least verbally.
Hope Im making some sense here.
This man scream 4 times, using sentences like you Mother F--king, shut the F---k up. The first time, I though he just lost it. 2nd time I grew concerned for the kid. Third time, I started to get dressed, and walked up to beach. After the four time, Isabelle, and DR girl pull the kid off the front, into the sand, and he fell 2-3 feet into sand. If I would have got there while in process, I would have beat the man, no doubts. He stopped, and I do not beat men for kicks. I told him my name, and told him he stops, or I will stop him. I told him, I am taking your photo, hollering at any DR person in this manner, is crazy. To holler in a foreign language at a child of 1-2 is insane.
He was over the top, and I got up, and as a white man, stopped another white man from insane, and uncivilized behavior. Understand, I was asleep on the beach, and he work me from roughly 40 feet away, against the noise of waves, and wind, etc. But, locals see Western people as upper level status we are like the rich in the DR, it is a dangerous for them to fight back, this is a highly corrupt nation, and the rich are always in abuse. I was the only white guy. Josh the Netherlands man was allowing the man to abuse his place, and not everyone on the planet has the ball to stand up, take a photo, post it, and say, I live in Plaza Sosua, I am not ashamed to say, I did the right thing.
I am 100 percent sure I am doing the right thing here. He needs stopped, he is 100 percent out of control insane with his sense of I am superior to the local, and they should have stopped him.
This is not a beach full of good people, this area is a full of m-o-n-g-e-r, who get out of control. But 1-2 year old black kid, I who I do not even think could talk, against a 60 year old drunk is nuts.
I do not need approval to know when something is obviously insane. I do not drink alcohol. If I get his name, I may go the police to see if there is laws, we are not in the USA, in Africa, in Togo, Ghana, they would have beat the man, but they are a higher quality culture there, than here. This is more along the lines of New York city ghetto, but nobody has the right to be screaming at 1-2 year old children as if it is a dog.
Evil flourishes when good men do nothing, right on Andy, you tell that dirty old bastard !!!
The question is, how many times does a person scream, before they become violent. This then is the human response, how many times does a human scream before another humans become willing to stop future violence? There is a line in every humans mind where the buck stops. This man was at the edge of darkness, as I learned now, his name is Roger. He appears to drink too much, too often.
Shall I be a good steward today? Who will fight my battles in my stead? Who will brave forth for me, if I will not brave forth for thee.
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