Rosa

‘So you and your husband and daughter are here on holiday,’ asks Rosa.

‘Tell me girl, are you married?’

She has put her hand on my shoulder and I smell the cigars in her breath.

‘Erm, no,’ I answer.

‘That’s good, very wise of you,’ says Rosa.

From this close I notice she has a strong moustache. Her dark skin disguises it well.

‘Now don’t you go get married girl, you hear me, sooner or later all men will hit you.’

Cabarete is a small town, a renowned surfing spot in the Dominican Republic. On this side of the country you’ll find no resorts. The small hotels and apartments are part of the local life. There are lots of little market stalls and bars everywhere, plus of course the inevitable souvenir shops.

Rosa sells souvenirs. Her shop is not larger than a large walk-in closet, filled with all this stuff, from top to bottom. Rosa sits at the entrance on a high stool, smoking cigars. She smokes the unbelievably large kind, which she also sells herself. Next to her is a ramshackle illuminated display, with the precious jewellery, shells and stones. Everything is polished and shiny, and it smells kind of spicy in the shop.

I’m here for the third time today. I like coming here.

Rosa is the archetypal powerful woman. She’s from everywhere and of all times. The kind of woman you immediately want to trust. And to which you listen, when she speaks.

Her hand now taps on my skin.

‘Now girl you listen to me, I myself got married three times. So I know what I am talking about,’ Rosa says.

‘The whole thing fell through twice when the husband began to slap me around.’

She holds one, two, three fingers upwards. ‘I am now married to husband number three, and I have to say, up till now he is doing very well.’

She sucks on her cigar.

‘Very well indeed, but no doubt this will happen with him too. The beating and the hitting, I mean. I know, I can see right through him. He’s no different. And if he gives me a beating one time, just once, it’s all over. Then Rosa is going to kick him out of her life.’

Rosa’s small size does little to hide her strength. Her sleeveless dress shows her muscular arms. It’s obvious that this woman can stand her ground. It’s this power, in combination with her smile, which makes her so attractive. With fierce black eyes in that ageless face, it is easy to understand why men would court her over and over. Who wouldn’t want to be looked after and be protected by a woman like Rosa? To be held by her, and rest in those powerful arms soft as dough.

At the same time I can’t help but feel sorry for those men too.

I’m pretty sure Rosa likes to pick a fight.  And hates to lose.