hird World - and we don't mean the classic reggae band - are the first two words that enter your mind as soon as you leave the Customs area of Santo Domingo's Las Americas International Airport. The initial entrance into this country is deceiving. Exiting the jetway to the very modern terminal you think, hmmm, this is pretty nice, although the boy and girl in uniform standing by Security (who are no more than ten and whose function is unbeknownst to us) make you wonder. Then, after going through Immigration (and paying $10 U.S. for a "tourist card"), you start to hear a din, which gets louder and louder. Entering the Customs area, you see the reason for all the hubbub - about a hundred porters vying for your attention. But that is nothing compared to the mass of people and the heat waiting for you when you exit through the Customs doors. Then you realize, "Wow, banana republic isn't just a store in the mall."

Welcome to the Dominican Republic. As we were walking out the door, an American flight attendant said to us, "What's a couple of nice white boys like you doing in a place like this?" Slightly startled, we both replied, "We're here on business." He said, "Be very careful - you really will stand out," to which one of us said, "Yeah, well obviously, but not to worry, we are veteran Caribbean travelers." "Do you speak Spanish?" he asked. "Un poco," we replied in unison. He just gave us a look and was off into the crowd. Oh great, we haven't been here two minutes and we've already been told to be nervous.

The Dominican Republic is a poor country, and we mean very poor (second only to Haiti in the Western Hemisphere), so keep that in mind when you leave the airport. The extent of the poverty is shocking at first. Our hosts kept saying, "You'll get used to it." And to a certain extent you do - the way you become inured to the sight of homeless people on big-city streets in the States. Here it's really a slap in the face at first, but after a while you see so much of it, you realize that's the way it is. Not that it doesn't bother you - you just steel yourself to it. It is also a country of striking contrasts. You can be in a car next to a man and donkey laden down with wares and then walk into a very nice restaurant that would be at home in Manhattan. You see contrasts like this all the time. Or as you are driving to a resort, you see incredibly poor people living in hovels just outside the entrance and then find yourself in a sumptuous hotel with buffet tables loaded with food. It blows you away.

The "D.R.," as it is often called, is a big country for the Caribbean, second only to Cuba in size. At 18,712 square miles, it's about as big as New Hampshire and Vermont combined. It occupies about two-thirds of the island of Hispaniola, which again is second in size only to Cuba. (The other third is occupied by Haiti, which is physically and culturally very different.) There are incredibly beautiful beaches along its 870 miles of coastline, high mountains (Pico Duarte reaches 10,414 feet - the highest in the Caribbean), lush vegetation, desert, and the urban sprawl of the capital, Santo Domingo. And throughout it all there are about 8 million people.

These people are very friendly and courteous, which is most refreshing and wonderful. Dominicans may be mostly poor, but they are polite. They are also a mix of races. The majority of the ruling class are Latino-white and, at least in the capital, are heavy (a status symbol - it shows you have plenty to eat). Most Dominicans are shades of brown, with a real mixture of Latino, Indian, and African features. Santiago, the commercial center of the country, is much whiter and more Latino than other parts of the country. The darkest people are from the southwest, closest to Haiti. One thing you notice about all Dominicans is that even though most people are very poor by our standards, they are surprisingly well dressed. Also, men always wear trousers, not shorts, everywhere in the country except at the beach, even when it's scorching outside.

The Dominican Republic attracts lots of European tourists, particularly Germans and Italians. We visited many resorts where 80 to 90 percent of the guests were either German or Italian (almost all on package tours). Americans are a rare breed here, except in Puerto Plata, Casa de Campo, and the Club Med in Punta Cana. Most Dominicans thought we were Italians, which was a change from feeling that we had "American" stenciled on our foreheads. Most people who come here will stay in a resort and won't leave the grounds. If they do leave, they will most likely be on a tour bus. This is fine for those who just want to go someplace that has what they want and then stay put. However, if you are intrepid (which our readers are, we hope) and want to explore this fascinating and beautiful country, you should.