Kite Buen Hombre Pen

Nobody comes to the Dominican Republic for a pen.

But here is the thing about a pen, as against a t-shirt: the t-shirt goes in a drawer in October and comes out next summer. The pen goes to work. It sits on a desk through a European winter, gets borrowed in meetings, goes missing for a week and comes back, and every so often somebody picks it up and says — what is Kite Buen Hombre?

Which is the point. It is the smallest, cheapest, most useful thing on this page, and it is the one that does the most talking when you are eight thousand kilometres away and it is raining.

It is also the thing to buy for the person who covered your shifts while you were here. Nobody wants a stranger's t-shirt. Everybody can use a pen.

Ten dollars, at both schools. Buy two — you will lose the first one, and that is rather the nature of pens.