Residencial vs Barrio

Barrio is the Spanish word for neighborhood and when I first arrived in Santo Domingo, I used the word it to refer to the area where I live. My doña was quick to politely correct me that we live in a residencial, but my Spanish was so poor that I didn't ask why.

I have since learned the difference, and will share the distinctions that Dominicans value and some of my own observations.

If our residencial were in the United States, I would describe it as lower middle class. University professors (very well paid in the DR) live here but it's mostly populated by industrious people who often work more than one job and sometimes operate an informal business out of their home. The DR doesn't have much of a middle class at all so even the lower end is something that people are proud of.

The residencial is divided into irregularly shaped manzanas (literally "apples" but meaning "blocks") comprised of single family homes. These are universally one or two story structures with a cement patio fronting the street. There may be potted plants but nothing like a lawn. The entire premise - the windows, the doors, the driveway - is enclosed in hierro (iron bars), which are often so gracefully ornamented that you can almost forget their function. Virtually all are occupied, most by their owners, some by renters and some by semi-permanent housesitters paid by owners who live in the US. The road into the residencial is mediated by a portón (gate) with a wachiman (I'll let you guess about that one) who monitors incoming traffic.

Unlike gated communities in the US, several businesses and churches and schools exist within the enclosure, motoconchos (motorcycle taxis) come and go more or less freely, and chiriperos (street vendors) are permitted to enter so long as they present a cédula (national ID card).  After 2 AM, the portón is locked and only vehicles with residential ID stickers are permitted to enter.

There is a junta de vecinos (neighborhood association) much like the Home Owners Association in my parents' subdivision, headed by a director (same spelling, different pronunciation) who is elected by common vote and serves a term of two years. The junta (this word means simply "group" and is used without any of the connotations of corruption that it has in the US) handles contracts with the wachiman and waste pickup, internal noise complaints, etc.

Unlike your garden variety American HOA the junta can manifest real political power. My doña tells me that our residencial used to be part of a larger billing group that included some neighboring barrios. During a drought the water company cut service because so many people weren't paying for service. The junta organized the vecinos to continue paying even though they weren't receiving any water and thus persuaded the utility to break off our residencial into a separate billing unit. Now, we enjoy regular water service two times a week during the rainy seasons, and at least once a week during the dry months.

In a barrio, it's different. There may be a junta and even a portón but, my doña warns me, it makes little difference. Todo el mundo (literally "the whole world") can come and go freely. Crímen, she says, is much worse, and if the neighbors play their music too loudly or too late there is no one to handle it (Dominicans don't bother the policía with such trivialities and don't trust them much in any case). Water and luz are less dependable. Already, some of my fellow Peace Corps Trainees who have been placed in the barrios have suffered water shortages, even though it is not yet summer. A house may lack a proper tinaco (water tank) and store water instead in barrels and plastic buckets.

I've visited PCTs in the barrios and it does feel different. Instead of only single family homes there are multi-story apartment buildings. There is more trash in the street (people in the residencial keep the fronts of their homes and businesses clean but no one takes responsibility for the common areas). Graffiti accumulates and one bothers to paint over it. There are less bars, but that may be because they cost so much.

It also feels more alive. The street life is more active and festive. PCTs from the barrios come to my residencial to enjoy a meditative morning jog and we go to the barrio when there is a party. The parties are modest and mostly temperate because PC does not permit us to walk the streets after 7 PM - we would have to take a taxi door-to-door, even if it's a short walk - and in any case we wouldn't want to scare our doña to death.