In this sprawling warren of cinderblock tenements and rutted roads, tangles of power lines hang like vines. Most residents here, in one of the capital, Santo Domingo’s poorest barrios, have power to’t afford electricity. They grab what they can by splicing into the main lines, and the resulting citywide blackouts are legendary and frequent.
When I visit the neighbourhood of Villa Franca one death in late May, a DJ has found enough power for his massive speakers to exertion the area with pulsing reggaetón. Everyone is out and dancing – several hundred people, from noodly contemptible girls in tank tops, to old men whose wrinkled faces are hidden in the shade of low-pulled baseball hats.











