we be jammin'

I know it has been weeks since I posted last. To all my faithful fans (religiously checking the blog everyday) I offer my deepest apologies and the pathetic excuse of "blogger's block." This post has been three weeks in the making and I'm still not quite satisfied. Maybe I've become too dependant on photos to tell the story.

Dominica hosted the Creole World Music Festival October 26-28. Three nights of Creole music and festivities in Roseau from musicians around the Caribbean. We may not have known exactly what creole music sounds like, but we were up for a party. At least Justin was. When we found out that the bus left at 7pm and returned to campus at 4am, Justin was a little hesitant to bring me along. My track record for staying up late is pretty pathetic to say the least. For some strange reason, I convinced myself that I would be able to do this no problem, and that it would be a great experience. I told myself it would be great for the blog. Of course then I found out no cameras were allowed into the festival, but it was too late to back out. You will all just have to use your imaginations.

We met on campus to catch our transport Friday at 7:00 PM. Of course, that meant we left at 7:30, but the late arrival of the bus gave us time to run across the street and grab several drinks for the road. The festival was held in the brand new cricket stadium in Roseau, brought to the people of Dominica thanks to the great country of China. Seriously. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windsor_Park_(Dominica)

Once we arrived in Roseau, we made our way over to the Cricket Stadium to check things out and were surprised to find that we were issued real ticket stubs. I was excited to have something I could keep as a memento of the night since cameras were banned. Of course nothing here quite makes sense, as hard as they may try. When we passed through security, instead of ripping off the end, they took the whole thing and put a cheap plastic wristband on! Typical.

So we walk through the gates and enter the field to find that millions of tiny foam puzzle pieces have been placed on the grass. These pieces were probably three inches wide and six inches long, and they keep buckling up underneath everyone. All I could think was it must have taken forever for them to be put in place. There weren't many people in the crowd, which wasn't too surprising considering the 100 e.c. entrance fee. Not many people here can afford to spend that for one night's fun. The majority of the group were from neighboring islands like Martinique, St. Lucia, and Guadeloupe. I found this out when I was "in line" (lines don't really have any meaning here) for ribs at one of the vendor's stalls outside the stadium. Shamika had a quick cameo when the french guys in line decided to try and get to know us better.

There was already someone on the stage when we arrived, and as we surveyed the crowd, realized we were the only white kids around. We were also the only ones in the crowd moving to the music. Now everyone knows white folk are not known for their impressive dance moves or even a good sense of rhythm. I think we probably reminded everyone in the crowd of this fact. I would even go so far to say that we permanently ingrained this as truth in their minds. But you can't go to a concert and stand completely still, can you? This crowd did.

The emcees were completely trashed and in between acts made feeble attempts to motivate the audience. No wasted energy in this group, though. It was bizarre. A French rap group from Guadeloupe took their turn on stage and the crowd managed to wave their arms back and forth a few times and that was about all they could muster. The rest of the time the crowd just stood around watching. I think there were more people outside the stadium where the food and drink vendors were than actually listening to the music. This may have been that it took forever to get a drink because there was absolutely no line system in place at all. If you wanted something you had to wrestle your way to the front and get the attention of the overwhelmed workers behind the counter. It wasn't as easy as it sounds.

After a while we went up into the stands to rest. By then it was past two in the morning and the main event was about to get started. All the way from Jamaica, Beanie Man graced us with his presence and an hour of unintelligible rap that somehow managed to move the crowd into a slight frenzy that lasted about 5 minutes. At the end there was a mass rush to leave that resulted in the worst bottleneck I've ever seen. One four foot wide gate in the fence served as an exit from the grassy field. One last band played, and I really felt sorry for them, because everyone was still trying to leave.

We made it back to the assigned meeting place at four and waited for the rest of the students and the bus to show up. The bus showed up at four thirty. The rest of the concert goers showed up a little after that and we hit the road. The driver was really considerate and drove super extra slow on the curvy roads back to Portsmouth. Justin managed to pass out, but I was wide awake the whole way willing the bus to stay on the road and myself not to get carsick. We made it back into town as the sun was rising. It was six o'clock in the morning.

That is really about all I can muster out of the Creole Music Festival. I learned that I am not very fond of Creole rap and that there is a reason why I don't stay up until six in the morning more often. The best I can say is that it was an interesting experience.

A Fish Story

Remember that day I was able to run all my errands using the rental car? Well, we just so happened to drive into Portsmouth, something I rarely do. After filling up with gas in preparation for our trip to the bense river (gas is $13 e.c./gallon which is roughly 5 USD, just to put things in perspective for those of you who complain) we spotted some men with coolers along the side of the road. Normally you would think, "watch out, they've started drinking early!" but not here. Coolers on the side of the road means the fish market is open. And normally (meaning anywhere else), one would drive past, do a u-turn, and position their car with the flow of traffic. But not in Dominica. I pulled right out of the gas station, up the wrong side of the street, and pulled alongside the curb to make a quick "drive through" fish pickup.

And the fish du jour? Tuna, naturally. We loaded up with ten pounds of fish (no heads, please) which were weighed and chopped with a machete on a piece of plywood and then placed in a black plastic bag and handed to us through the window. Score!

That evening Christina and I showed our true adaptations to life in Dominica when we gutted and filleted fish all by ourselves. Not something I want to do every time I feel like eating fish, but it was a great change from chicken.

Snorkeling and the Bense River

After such a disastrous experience with the Camry at Trafalgar, we knew it wouldn't make it to the Bense River. First thing the next morning, we traded it in for a cute Suzuki Escudo. Having a car for two days in a row was a special treat for me. I've made it ten months without a car and you can imagine how spoiled I felt driving up the hill to James Store (a three minute walk), into town to mail postcards (okay that one takes a little longer), and across the street to the beach.

Justin had class in the morning so we dropped him off, ran a few errands, and headed for the beach.

We tried out the new snorkel equipment that I brought back from our mini vacation in August. Unfortunately, the day was slightly overcast. Now, normally I never complain when it is overcast because less sun equals less sweat, but I was disappointed that Chris and Tyler didn't have an awesome underwater experience. I was surprised how low visibility was and how that affected my underwater picture taking skills.

At noon we went to campus and ate lunch while we waited for Justin to get out of class. Then we headed for Bense to spend the afternoon in the Chaudiere Pool. I was feeling better about the car situation but a little anxious about the directions. I played it cool and pretended I knew exactly where I was going (instead of just a general idea) and we made it there without any problems.

How did I know we were there? Well, actually there is a small sign off to the side of the overgrown trail that faces the opposite direction, so really you see a metal pole topped with a piece of plywood. That is how you know to pull off to the side and make your own parking space. The trail is marked similarly, with a metal pole (no plywood this time) marking a steep staircase of mud reinforced with rotting logs.

Don't let our smiles fool you. It isn't a quick stroll through the brush. Especially if your name is Justin and you're trying to be cool like our guide from the day before and attempt a hike in your croc flops.

Another sign (if you could spot it) let us know we were going in the right direction.

We crossed over a small river and up another river bed to reach the pool.

These rocks were a lot easier to navigate than the huge boulders at Trafalgar.

The guys wasted no time getting down to business and by that I mean having fun.


On the way back, we decided to take a detour that would bypass the killer staircase. Justin wasn't very confident in my trailblazing skills, but he forgot that I've been here twice before. And of course I knew exactly what I was doing, and we made it back to the car without any problems. It was just another day in Dominica for us.

Testing Fate: a road trip to remember

I rented a car. And I drove it.

Yes. Even better than my attempt at something so brave is the fact that three people put their lives in my hands and I didn't kill them. You may be thinking "Wow! This may end up being a better story than the sailing adventure!" To that I would respond, "Oh yes, it is. Keep reading please."

Pretty much the whole time we were in the car (okay, at least half the time), I felt confident, which of course makes for a rather boring story. Actually, it would be a completely different story from the point of view of Chris and Tyler who sat helpless in the backseat. I mean they didn't even have the front floor panel to press their foot against to help me brake the way Justin did! And with these brakes, I needed all the help I could get. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

For those of you who can't quite understand the importance of this feat, this "brave" attempt at driving in the third world, here are a few things to remember: 1. I don't enjoy driving (could be a key point, don't you think?) 2. Most roads here are slightly wider than one lane, with enough room for two cars to pass with what seems like a two inch clearance between the side windows, and no shoulders or stripes on the road, no stop lights, one stop sign you get the point 3. You drive on the left side of the road, but in the right side of car 4. did I mention I don't particularly enjoy driving.

If you still need some reasoning as to why it was left up to me to drive, as opposed to Justin, let's consider this:

1. Familiarity with the roads: me (Justin's knowledge of roads would be exclusive to Banana Trail, from the apartment to campus and back, exactly as it should be)

2. Valid Drivers license: me (Justin's is expired) although I wasn't able to get a Dominican permit because the rental company was out and the police station was closed on Sunday. We were advised by the rental guy to just not get pulled over. We couldn't help but laugh. Traffic cops? Here? Yeah, right.

So Sunday morning Justin and I rented a Toyota Camry for a day of sight seeing with our guests Chris and Tyler.

Our first stop was Trafalgar Falls. When we reached Roseau, we discovered the road we needed to take inland was blocked. Using a very vaguely marked map, we navigated through a neighborhood (okay it was more like driving up and down a street) trying to find this obscure road that would merge with the road we needed after the construction. Finally we asked directions to discover we had been passing the road, but hadn't thought of it as an option because it was marked with a "do not enter" sign that listed certain dates. Our first test of fate for the day, we decided to go for it, and traveled down this extremely narrow, hanging off the edge of a cliff "trail," against traffic. It must have only been a tenth of a mile long, but since we were all holding our breaths it felt like thirty minutes of pure stress, especially when the huge bread truck came around the corner and miraculously there was a pocket of space against the side of the mountain that protected us as the driver passed, honking his horn at the dumb white tourists. Although I bet he got a small kick out of the fact that a little white girl was driving three grown men around. Eventually we met up with the real road and were on our way to Trafalgar.

It was about this time when we realized the brakes on the camry were not top notch. The squeal of brake pads became our soundtrack, with alternating moments of absolute silence (some may call it stress, I'd like to think of it as contemplative) as we slowly made our way through the mountainous roads.

Just when we thought we'd never make it (there are no markings or signs, you know), there it was! The parking lot I mean. The feeling of solid ground beneath our feet was almost was good as the prospect of seeing the waterfalls. Almost.

At the start of the hike, we met Jackson, a local guide who offered to help us hike up over the boulders to get to the waterfall. If you have read about my other hikes to waterfalls, you may remember that there aren't cute little stone lined paths right to the perfect picnic spot here. He was hired.

Trafalgar Falls, before the hike

Jackson helped us climb over, around, and over again. All in his red Crocs. We told him he was a walking advertisement for the shoe company. I can't imagine hiking in those!

Our final destination.

After a quick swim, we had a quick picnic of pb & j and oranges. Jackson offered to take us to another little place nearby called Titou gorge. I had heard about it from other people, but never had the chance to go. So we headed back to the car and Jackson hopped in to show us the way. I missed the expression on his face when he realized I was driving, but Justin assures me it was priceless.

Jackson also noticed the condition of the brakes and you know that means they were in poor shape. The intensity of our road trip increased with another diversion because of construction. At one point the hill we were climbing was so steep I couldn't see over the hood of the car. It was a good thing we had Jackson with us, because we would not have passed our second test of fate if he hadn't pointed to the right and told me to turn at what I guess was the top of the hill (I still could only see sky), which was also a "T" intersection with another road. Going straight would have taken us off the road and back down the hill. A little further we encountered a road crew paving a section of the road. Since the road was so narrow there was no reason to pave one side and then the other, so the paved the whole width. As we sat there waiting, Jackson reached over and honked the horn at them to remind them that we would like to pass eventually. Of course when they looked over, all they saw was a white girl in the driver's seat. I reminded Jackson of that fact. After a few minutes, the road was cleared enough to pass over the freshly pressed asphalt and continue to Titou.

Well, we made it to Titou, bad brakes, rough roads and all. Titou Gorge is a freezing cold pool of water on the backside of a waterfall.

We swam through the gorge to see the waterfall. The water was surprisingly deep, none of us could reach the bottom!

It was the first time I've ever been behind a waterfall.

There was a large rock to the side that we all stood on while Jackson took pictures of us jumping.

By then it was getting to be about time to head home. Although we were only about 35 miles from home, it is a two hour drive. It is crazy to believe that is how slow everyone drives here, but you really can't go any faster on the curvy (some may say treacherous) roads. Plus, the sun sets every evening around 6 and I wasn't about to test fate a third time by driving in the dark! Fortunately we didn't have to return the way we came, and made our way back to Trafalgar to drop off Jackson. Then it was through Roseau (no scary detour, thankfully) and back on the main road to Portsmouth.

We made it home safe and sound, where the boys immediately began washing away the day's stress with Kubuli, brewed with natural spring water.

Blue Bay Restaurant

The Portsmouth area has a very small selection of restaurants. We mostly (due to time and money) stick to the quick and easy Chinese food restaurant called Brothers that is right across the street from campus. If we want something a little nicer, we may venture over to the Canadian owned and operated Tomato, but I can count on one hand how many times that has happened. But really who wants to eat out when there is a case of frozen chicken in the freezer? Having company gave us a reason to venture out of our comfort zone (I think we established that would happen earlier while sailing) to Blue Bay restaurant. Of course we called ahead to 1. make sure they were open and 2. had food available. You can never take those two for granted here. Then we called a taxi to take us into town where he dropped us off on the main street by a small alley.

I wish I had looked back at Justin, Chris, and Tyler to see their reaction, but I just assumed they had seen the small sign overhead.

The little arrow on the sign is important to notice because otherwise you would be a little confused. Luckily, I had heard from a friend that to get to the restaurant you walk down an alley to the beach. Justin, Chris, and Tyler followed my lead thankful that someone knew where we were supposed to go. Unfortunately, the sun sets every evening at 6 and we missed watching the sunset from the outdoor restaurant patio (there is no inside restaurant, just so you know) but we could hear the waves on the sand.



The menu was small, but we each found a different exotic drink to try. It made us feel more "Caribbean" but it also made me miss first world countries that use ice. Justin lucked out with his fruity banana drink, the only cold one in the bunch. I must say it is hard to enjoy a warm alcoholic beverage on a warm Caribbean night.

No, that isn't sushi. That is Justin's fish fondue. Tyler ordered a dish with goat, and we tried not to think of the little kids that live on the hill and are always chasing each other up and down the street. Chris had beef in a french sauce and I ate grilled snapper.

Everything tasted really good. When we were done our waitress brought us a complimentary shot of peanut punch.

I was surprised by the consistency of the peanut punch, it is as thick as it sounds.

Eventually the check arrived, hand written on a cute little card. It was a great experience overall, just remember to go early to catch the sunset and order the banana drink because it is served cold.

Chris & Tyler came to visit

Be Jealous. That's right, the vacation you've all been thinking about taking, you know, the one where you check your bank statement and amazingly realize there's enough to purchase plane tickets that take you two thousand miles away and 50 years into the past, the one where you can discover the awesomeness that is Dominica. That one. Two more of our friends have braved the horror of flying in a prop plane to a third world country and island hopped down to our little slice of paradise. This is their story (and remember to picture yourself in these photos as motivation to start planning your trip).

Meet Chris, Justin's friend from high school, sophomore year roommate, and master of nuclear engineering.

And Tyler, Justin's friend from A&M, next door neighbor for two years, and studier of law.

Let the fun begin!

Our first adventure took us to nearby coconut beach where we trusted Justin with our lives (hey, pretty soon hundreds of people will be able to say this!) and embarked on a sailing adventure. The weather was clear with a nice breeze, perfect for sailing!

As Justin was the only one of us to have sailed before, he manned the rudder and we zipped off to secret beach. The white sand of secret beach is such a refreshing change from the normal hot black sand that is typical of Dominica.

I managed to get a great shot of secret beach from the sailboat as we approached. When I've been before we paddled over in kayaks, and stayed close to shore. One cool thing about secret beach (besides the cool cave) is that it is only accessible by water. You can see the thin little strip of white sand in the photo.

After a relaxing afternoon of splashing around in the water, we headed back.

Tyler, Justin, and Chris on the sailboat!

The ride home was eventful to say the least. On our way out, Shorty, the guy who rents the sailboat, reminded us that to get back to coconut beach, we needed to sail north and cut back at an angle. Ok, no problem we told him. So we caught the breeze in the sail and headed north ish, but also a little east. We didn't go far before the wind changed (at least we're going to go ahead and blame it on the wind) and we were at a standstill. Justin tried several things with the sail and the rudder and finally Chris manned up and jumped in.

He only lasted five minutes.

Things were getting pretty tense.

Two fishermen in a small motorboat approached us and tried to offer advice on how to pull the sail a certain way but we had no idea what they were saying or how to do it so we thanked them and the sped off. At this point I wasn't really all that worried. The beach was still in view and I figured we still had several hours before the sun set, and surely Shorty would want his money enough to come get us if it came down to it. Surely.

But after what seemed like an eternity, a small gust of wave came and carried us about 10 yards. Progress! Hey, at least I still had a positive attitude. Too bad it didn't get us anywhere.

In the end, the two fishermen took pity on us (at least they weren't laughing in our faces) and came back to rescue us. They pulled out the thinnest piece of string I've ever seen and tied it to the mast.

Can you see that tiny yellow line? I'm pretty sure it was fishing line. And I'm pretty sure it saved the day. And our lives.
We made it back to shore, slightly west of coconut beach and Shorty came out to meet us (and make us feel bad for not being good sailors). Then he hopped on the sailboat and expertly maneuvered the craft out and around right back to where we started. I told Shorty he should give Justin lessons. Shorty laughed.

All is well that ends well, right?

Six Week Check-up

It is hard to believe that six weeks of the semester have gone by and all I have to show on my blog are my parties. As you can see, I've been perfecting my cake making skills. I'm still perfecting my recipe for frosting that doesn't melt in the heat, but that may not be possible here. Justin, on the other hand, has spent the last six weeks of class studying, peer tutoring for semester 1, studying, TAing in the anatomy lab, studying more, peer tutoring for semester 2, and yes believe it or not, actually going to the gym. I don't know how he has managed to fit it all in, but whatever he is doing is working because he managed all A's on his first round of exams again.

Dominican Birthday Party

Saturday is Leslie's birthday, but she's headed back to North Carolina tomorrow for a few weeks. Last night we all got together to celebrate a little early. Christina and I frosted cupcakes in the shape of a flower.

Rachel made a beautiful card from the three of us and we surprised Leslie with a little party.

Happy Birthday Leslie!