My life with humidity

Mold spore
I thought St. Louis, our home town, was the most humid place on earth, but I had never before lived near rain forest. Up North, however, no matter how nasty the humidity is outside, the inside is always nicely climate controlled. (Of course one reason I wanted to move here was to get out of my climate controlled box.)

Here is far different. Here I clean mold off my furniture. Did your mother teach you how to manage mold on your furniture? Mine did not. My leather shoes begin to grow fuzz. And today I took out a couple of pillows to find the cases covered in mildew. Ugh :(

We have some friends who bag up their most precious things with silica gel. Mr. Wizard is thinking about having lights burn in the closets of Lilliput to lower humidity. (But only after we are off the Domlec .47 USD per kWh electric grid.) Many hours are spent around dinner tables swapping ideas about managing humidity, mold and mildew. I have had people tell me of opening their DVD or VCR players to find them full of mold. The tropics are tough on electronics.

Who knows, maybe the next line of antibiotic is lurking within the the mold of someone's VCR on Dominica. Where, Oh, where might Jonas Salk be?

Of course we all know what mold can do to people's health, and it is so prevalent here it is worrisome. Mr. Wizard is highly mold sensitive and has to take antihistamines before entering some buildings which trigger his allergies.

Keeping house here is far more work intensive than up North. Having open doors and windows are wonderful in keeping the psyche connected to nature, but it also means the house has all manner of things blow through. (I recently found a tiny frog on my kitchen counter who had to be repatriated to the great outdoors.) And because of the humidity everything needs to be hauled into the sun frequently for airing. Having household help is not a luxury here. It is necessary if you do not want everything you own to be destroyed by the tropics, and if you need to perform any other function in the world other than house drudge.

So, today I am bleaching pillows, trying to catch up the masses of laundry, and muttering.

livingdominica: who is afraid to take out her posh red leather jacket an see what the tropics have done to it.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Today I changed Mr. Rasta's dressing. (By the way, it sounds like he will soon be heading down to Barbados! Hooray!) Anyway, I bagged up the dirty dressing and took it to the hospital incinerator dumpster as directed by the hospital infection control nurse. Much to my surprise, there was a naked man in the dumpster.

Not only a naked man, but a carambola eating naked man who had painted himself with mud. Sitting there, amidst the bags of hospital waste. Hmm.

Did I mention he was naked, painted in mud, and eating carambola in the hospital dumpster? Oh, I guess I did.

"Say there, friend, that is probably the worst place you could possible choose to sit and eat carambola." I remarked.

"Yes, ma'am." he replied. (Nice manners, this loon)

"You really should get out of there", I insisted, "There is all kinds of stuff in there which can hurt you!" I was a little sharper now.

Even more meekly the waste bin's occupant replied, "Yes, ma'am".

But he didn't move.

So I was forced to hunt down security and get him in trouble. I suspect he will be indoors soon being scrubbed down by some nursing student doing her psychiatric rotation.

livingdominica: life is just full of surprises. And some of them are naked, painted with mud, and eat carambola in a dumpster.

Thoughts on Money

Someone sent me a link to a site called Get Rich Slowly. It is an interesting site about frugality and voluntary simplicity. I believe these to be valuable goals as long as my frugality and simplicity is not supported by borrowing from others. "Never a borrower or a lender be" is the wise Yankee motto. Perhaps it is the fiercely independent American in me, but I am not comfortable borrowing from others. And lending can also be very uncomfortable when I have to ask for items to be returned. This has been a cultural adjustment for me, since sometimes it seems here that everyone wants something from me. So, I support the goal of frugality and simplicity as long as it is not paid for by others. Only saints should have their simple lifestyles supported by others.
Here is a quote by Ann Rynd:

"Poverty is not a mortgage on the labor of others, misfortune is not a mortgage on achievement, failure is not a mortgage on success, suffering is not a claim check, and its relief is not the goal of existence. Man is not a sacrificial animal on anyone's altar nor for anyone's cause. Life is not one huge hospital."

- Ayn Rand, "The Voice of Reason"

Of course, compassion has to figure into the equation somewhere. I get a weekly thought from the Dalai Lama, and this week his words were also about money:

"In the frenzy of modern life we lose sight of the real value of humanity. People become the sum total of what they produce. Human beings act like machines whose function is to make money. This is absolutely wrong. The purpose of making money is the happiness of humankind, not the other way around. Humans are not for money, money is for humans. We need enough to live, so money is necessary, but we also need to realize that if there is too much attachment to wealth, it does not help at all. As the saints of India and Tibet tell us, the wealthier one becomes, the more suffering one endures.

...Eating, working, and making money are meaningless in themselves. However, even a small act of compassion grants meaning and purpose to our lives."

--from How to Practice: The Way to a Meaningful Life by the Dalai Lama, translated and edited by Jeffrey Hopkins

You can subscribe to the Dalai Lama's email list here.

I am not sure how to reconcile Ann Rynd with the Dalai Lama, yet both speak truth to me. Perhaps balance is the key.

No Car, No Water, No Joy Redux

Good Morning!

We have no water. You might recall we have been here before. Last night we had a substantial storm with enough rain for our local water utility to turn off the water. We have been told they do this to avoid sucking muddy water into the pipes. The next time someone tells you it is fine to drink the pipe water here, please recall this and the fact that Mr. Wizard and I experienced incapacitating diarrhea back when we believed everything we were told.

We have a whole house filtration system now, but of course that doesn't work to filter water hauled in buckets. So our table top Berkie comes into play at these times. These filters have been in use since the 1800s and have an interesting history. (You will note that we use a similar filtration system to the one Queen Victoria used. I do hope you are suitably impressed.) Of course the Berkie only makes about 6 liters of potable water at a time by slooow drip method.

So life just became much more labor intensive with having to carry water for everything. It also means heating water on the stove for bucket baths. For the uninitiated, a bucket bath is performed by wetting down the body, scrubbing with soap, then rinsing off. My mother called this a "spit bath", since although it will remove dirt and odors, it does not produce the lovely clean feeling of a real shower.

And as we haul water for our flushes and baths, we are also in automotive limbo. Mr. Wizard's ancient Beast of a vehicle is yet again broken. I am daily supplicating him to buy another vehicle, but I believe he will never get rid of the Beast. He firmly believes having the most disreputable looking vehicle on the island communicates immediately that we are not rich.

But I am fully prepared to own a smaller, nicer vehicle. If you are on the island and have a very reliable small 4X4 for sale, please contact me quietly and I will work on the Beast's owner.

livingdominica: just another day in paradise.

Cost of Living

Apparently we not only pay the highest electric rate in the world, but the commodity price here is the highest in the Caribbean. Everyone has been noting a huge increase in everyday items like flour, rice etc.

"The latest available data from the ECCB clearly reveals that the price of a sample commodity consumer basket (a basket of similar goods), range from $282.74 in St. Vincent, to a high of $482.76 in Dominica. The price of that same food basket in Grenada is $368.13. The average price for this shopping basket in the OECS is $386.92 which means that in Grenada, the consumer basket is $18.79 below the OECS average; therefore it is not correct to that Grenada has the highest prices in the region,’ he added."

No, Grenada doesn't have the highest prices in the Caribbean, Dominica does. WHY?

You can read the rest of the article here.

The Minister of Agriculture has a really good response, I think, in encouraging us to eat more locally. Read the story here.

A Plague of Stupid Birds

Our rental house has been invaded by a hoard of Stupid Birds. But I am sure hoard is not the right word. So I went looking. About.com has this extensive list for groups of birds:

Birds in general - A flock of birds, a dissimulation of birds, volery of birds
Bitterns - A siege of bitterns, a sedge of bitterns
Chickens - A peep of chickens
Choughs - A chattering of choughs
Coots - A cover of coots, a raft of coots
Cormorants - A flight of cormorants
Cranes - A sedge of cranes
Crows - A congress of crows, a murder of crows
Curlews - A herd of curlews
Doves - A dule of doves, a flight of doves, a dole of doves, a cote of coves, a piteousness of doves
Ducks - A paddling of ducks, a raft of ducks, a team of ducks, a dopping of ducks
Dunlin - A fling of dunlin
Eagles - A convocation of eagles
Eggs - A clutch of eggs
Falcons - A cast of falcons
Finches - A charm of finches, a trembling of finches
Flamingos - A flamboyance of flamingos
Geese - A gaggle of geese, a skein of geese
Goldfinches - A charm of goldfinches
Goshawks - A flight of goshawks
Grouse - A brace of grouse, a covey of grouse
Guillemots - A bazaar of guillemots
Gulls - A colony of gulls
Hawks - A cast of hawks, a kettle of hawks, a cast of hawks
Hens (chickens) - A brood of hens
Herons - A siege of herons
Hummingbirds - A charm of hummingbirds, a troubling of hummingbirds, a hover of hummingbird
Jays - A band of jays, party of jays
Kingfishers - A concentration of kingfishers
Lapwings - A deceit of lapwings
Larks - An exaltation of larks
Loons - A raft of loons
Magpies - A tiding of magpies
Mallards - A sord of mallards, a flush of mallards, a puddling of mallards
Nightingales - A watch of nightingales
Owls - A parliament of owls, a wisdom of owls
Parrots - A company of parrots
Partridges - A covey of partridges
Peacocks - An ostentation of peacocks, a muster of peacocks
Penguins - A colony of penguins, huddles of penguins, a pride of penguins
Pheasants - A bouquet of pheasants, a covey of pheasants, a nye of pheasants, a nide of pheasants, a nest of pheasants
Quail - A bevy of quail, a covey of quail
Pelicans - A squadron of pelicans
Plovers - A congregation of plovers, a wing of plovers, a leash of plovers
Ravens - A conspiracy of ravens, an unkindness of ravens, a constable of ravens
Rooks - A building of rooks, a parliament of rooks
Snipe - A walk of snipe, a wisp of snipe
Sparrows - A host of sparrows, a quarrel of sparrows
Starlings - A murmuration of starlings
Storks - A mustering of storks
Swallows - A flight of swallows
Swans - A ballet of swans, a bevy of swans, a herd of swans, a whiteness of swans
Teal - A spring of teal
Turtledoves - A pitying of turtledoves
Turkeys - A rafter of turkeys, a muster of turkeys
Waterfowl - A plump of waterfowl
Woodcock - A fall of Woodcock
Woodpeckers - A descent of woodpeckers

You'll notice Stupid Birds are not enumerated. But I could call them a Murder of Stupid Birds, since that is what I would like to do to them.

Our Stupid Birds cannot nest. They flap around, creating mess and nesting debris everywhere, but they never manage to put together a nest in which to deposit an egg. I enjoy watching birds nest, and last year when Doves (a Piteous of Doves) nested in my flowerpot, I was so pleased to watch the babies hatch and then take flight.

But these Stupid Non-nesting Birds perform their pointless maneuvers right above my hanging laundry. This has caused many loads of rewashing. Grrrr.

We continually marvel that there are so many of these flapping fiends, since you would think they would die out after one generation. But somehow they must procreate somewhere, because here they are. Unless, of course, they are a cloning experiment gone hideously wrong.

Now, I could look up the species of these tormentors in my Guide to West Indian Birds, but I will not honor them by calling them by a proper bird name.

Stupid Birds.

The Misery and the Miracle

Remember me? I am the woman plagued by Real Estate Misery, also known as: R.E.M.

We are no closer today to having our own home than we were in 2005 when we moved to the island. Plus, a large portion of our housing funds has slid down a hill. And the prospect of comparable replacement land seems discouraging. (We looked long and hard to find Wit's End, in all her glory. We have not seen anything that even comes close to having the same amenities. Plus, Real Estate seems to be rapidly escalating in price here.)

Poor Mr. Wizard, he has been looking at a miserable face recently.

So he has been experiencing R.E.M. also, but his is an opportunistic infection he obtained from me. Anytime I begin to discuss a return to the US, The Wiz grows pale, begins panting and breaks out in hives. (These are the hallmark signs that R.E.M. has been transmitted.)

My R.E.M. has recently been complicated by having our ancient vehicle, endlessly in the repair shop. The Wiz loves his relic from an earlier transportation era, but it does breakdown. I, however, have really been missing the posh and reliable vehicles from our life up North. Not reliably having transportation recently has been a nuisance. And since we are amidst a holiday, I fully expected not to see The Beast until mid week.

Hence, my misery index increased dramatically. Then a remarkable thing occurred Sunday morning. A call from the repair guy!

He had worked on our vehicle all day Saturday (which was a holiday!). It was fixed, and because of the delays with getting it repaired, he charged us next to nothing for the repair.

The repair he spent a holiday to complete.

On a Saturday.

(Stunned silence)

Now, if you have never lived in the US, maybe you don't appreciate what a miracle has occurred here. Let me explain.

In my former home:

• The repair would never have been done on a Saturday. Or on a holiday. Period.
  
• But let's say that, against all odds, work was done for you beyond regular hours. You would pay triple time. No question.
• And your car would certainly not be returned to your home on a Sunday morning. Yes, friends, The Beast was brought to our door. On a Sunday morning!
• And the repair guy apologized profusely for not getting it done earlier.

I gave him a great big kiss. I probably would have given him more if the Wiz weren't standing there.

I am thinking that maybe our car repair dude should be canonized. I may have to talk with the local Bishop about him. He has performed a miracle which is beyond my American comprehension, a miracle of holiday weekend car repair at low prices. I wonder if he can perform other miracles? I am thinking about instant weight loss and age reduction. Or even better, healing of the Wit's End landslide. That would be the greatest miracle of all. Our R.E.M. would be immediately cured!

livingdominica: I sure hope the car starts this morning...

No Car. No Water. No Joy?

We are well into our second day without water following a storm which blew through bringing wind, masses of rain, and eroding the road surfaces. Mr. Wizard was told by the water company that they turn off the water to avoid sucking mud into the pipes. I don't know about the sucking of mud, but I do know that not having running water sucks.

Fortunately, with friends' help, we can get through these things. Here is a picture of my friend Chrissy who came over and we laughed and caught water to use for flushing toilets and mopping floors from a broken gutter. Because we also have no car, my friend Nora took me to the grocery store to provision for the weekend so that we can at least eat something other than from the tins in the cupboard. Other buddies, Quinten and Chris are fetching us for supper tonight. With friends, life is good!

The same storm that robbed us of water also tore up the roof on our rental house, so the workers are up there banging away to keep us dry. But we are hearing that a new roof might be coming! Great news! It has been disconcerting to watch the shingles whizzing by during every little storm since Hurricane Dean.

We also have no transportation since our car is being repaired, and life as we know it on the island has stopped to celebrate Creole. Three Nights of Pulsating Rhythms means no car for us since all the rentals cars on the island have been engaged by the festival people. I hate the idea of once again owning 2 vehicles, but it may come to that. Things do seem to happen all at once, don't they? But even if we had the vehicle, the road between us and town is nearly impassable from erosion. The torrential rain has dug beneath the tarmac in areas up to 12 inches deep. The forces of nature are mind boggling sometimes.

The Wiz and I were discussing this morning how much more able to cope we are here than we ever were in the US. Here we always have water stored, batteries charged, and a cupboard full of tins of food. In the US we were so lulled into complacency by the consistency of services that if we had 2 days of interrupted water, we would have been desperate for something to drink, not to mention all the other things in life which require water. I like the feeling that we are ok when systems break down (with a little help from our friends, of course) But it does make me wonder why we were ever so willing to bet things would continue to work in the US? I like the feeling that we are fine when things do not consistently work.



livingdominica: off to joyfully wash my hair in a bucket.

Creole is Here!

Here is my Madras for Creole Days.

This post is updated from an earlier entry, if it seems familiar...


This month is Creole time here on Dominica, which is my very favorite celebration. This time of year is a festival honoring all things Dominican. Everyone gets into the spirit of things in the days leading up to Independence Day (Nov. 3) and the World Creole Music Festival (Oct. 26-28).

Here are some of the things I love about this time of year: Creole in the Park is a family celebration of food, music, crafts and fun held in the Botanic Garden. This year Creole in the Park starts on October 22 for four days. I can already taste the Crab Backs, my favorite Creole dish.


On the Friday before Independence everyone, I mean , everyone will be decked out in Creole dress. Women in madras dresses and head ties, men in the traditional dark trousers with white shirt and red sash. Sometimes the guys have a madras vest or tie, too. From toddlers to grannies, everyone wears some version of traditional dress, even immigrants. (My madras outfit is pictured above)


Community Day of Service (Nov 4) is a day when everyone works together to improve the country. Much cleaning, painting and trimming is done this day in a spirit of pride. It is a work party and you can see a real difference everywhere you look after this day of work, trash all gone and everything tidy.


Market Day with a Difference: The markets of the island are wonderful every Saturday, but on the Saturday before Independence, the stalls and vendors are awash with madras. It is the best!


Miss and Madam Wob Dwiyet competitions: Wob Dwiyet is the traditional island costume and women of all ages compete in several areas in order to win the title. Miss Wob Dwiyet is for the younger set, Madam Wob for the mature women. But the most important skill they demonstrate is the ability to wear this costume with the grace and dignity it deserves.


During this season, every village seems to develop Creole fever and strives to show it's neighbors how well it is preserving heritage and traditions. The pride and love for this island is truly palpable this time of year when areas around the island compete in dance competitions and village festivals are held.


Local TV has a lot of historic and cultural programing which includes Dr. Honychurch's history and archeology films, demonstrations of how to properly tie a West Indian head dress, and lots of traditional dancing and music. I love the Bele and the Jing Ping bands most of all. It is wonderful to see the children learning these traditional art forms. Thank goodness Dominicans are passionate about keeping their history and culture alive.


livingdominica: I am a little bit Creole in my soul...

Learning to Dance in the Rain

There once was a woman who woke up one morning,
looked in the mirror,
and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today?"
So she did
and
she
had
a
wonderful
day.


The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror
and saw that she had only two hairs on her head.

"H-M-M," she said,
"I think I'll part my hair down the middle today?"
So she did
and
she
had
a
grand
day.



The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.

"Well," she said,
"today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
So she did
and
she
had
a
fun,
fun
day.



The next day she woke up,
looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.

"YEA!" she exclaimed,
"I don't have to fix my hair today!"



Attitude is everything.

Be kinder than necessary,

for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply,

Love generously,

Care deeply,

Speak kindly.......

Leave the rest to whoever you call God

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain.

livingdominica: someone sent this to me in an email. I really liked it, but I had to cut off the part saying you must forward it to this many people. Why do people put that dictatorial stuff at the end of otherwise nice messages? grrrrr

I love the street musicians in Roseau

I wish there were street musicians every day, but this mostly happens when the cruise boats are in. Most of us who can, avoid Roseau on boat days.

Please Move Your Goat

I just listened to the public services announcements on radio, and was appalled to hear that goats grazing the property of Princess Margaret Hospital in Roseau will be shot if owners do not remove them. Would all persons who read this blog and have parked their goats at PMH please remove them? I do not want any of our goats shot. Be so advised.

livingdominica: As always, providing important community information. The management regrets any inconvenience this may cause. Better go move my goats.

A Visitor's View of Dominica's Roads

OK. This picture is Bolivia, not Dominica. Our roads are not this bad. They just feel this bad.

We have had visitors who saw little of the island, as they focused only on the sheer drop outside the car window. Driving here is not for the faint of heart! The first time I drove across the Belles road on my own I felt like someone should throw me a party or give me a medal!

I loved this first impression of our roads:

"The one down side are the roads. My Lawd Gawd!!!!! Okay, I live in the U.S. which has large roads for large American cars. Even in Nigeria and the Ivory Coast (where I spent some years are nice paved (or potholed) roads that can take 2 cars going in either direction. Now, Dominica? That is a different matters. The roads look like they are for one car. We were speeding down twisting, winding roads when all of a sudden, a big pick up truck/lorry was coming towards us. My people, I screamed for Jesus! Can you believe that both vehicles managed to get by? I have never seen anything like this. I have told my husband that I would not mind retiring here. But the roads are enough to give me high blood pressure! Now Husband shouts 'Holy ghost fire' to mock me whenever a car is coming. Silly man.... LOL"

from IT WAS SO MUCH EASIER WHEN I ONLY HAD ONE

livingdominica: Here is my confession-- Mr. Wizard does most of the driving...