Another Real Estate Saga

This is another real estate story, so you can skip it if you are tired of listening to the endless moaning. I would certainly skip it if I could.

We had located a small piece of land up high, barely wide enough to support a cottage. We figured we might be able to afford it and a banana shack to live in. But hey, we thought, at least we would have something in case the issues with the government grind on endlessly. (We have noticed more and more lately that we are not getting younger.) We arranged to have a survey done of the land, because every inch of width mattered on such a narrow lot. Plus, the land had not been surveyed since the 1980s.

We figured we had solved our problems, and we began planning a modest little cottage to build on the land. Meanwhile, the survey was begun. I even had the audacity to begin to feel a little happy again. Foolish me. The gods are not done with us yet.

A little note about surveys on Dominica: points of survey on this island are frequently marked with beer bottles placed upside down in the earth, sticks, and trees. Yes, gentle readers, my future home was hanging on the possibility of finding a beer bottle. After two weeks of trying to find any point of the prior survey, the poor survey guy threw up his hands in despair. All the beer bottles were missing, and the trees were indicated in Kweyol names, which none of the five or six native Dominicans consulted could figure out. (Kweyol is the local linguistic amalgamation of French, English, African and Carib.)

In addition to the missing beer bottles and unknown trees, the neighbor to the South insisted the line was definitely further North. The Northern neighbor claims, "No, No, the line is further South." The narrow lot was shrinking before our eyes. The strong smell of endless boundary disputes began to hang in the air. I hope by now you have tears streaming down your face, I certainly did. I crawled back into bed, under the covers for a few days.

Did I mention that the Realtor on the island who showed us this property does not return our calls?

So, we are back to square one. Actually, it feels like the reset point is into the negative numbers. We have to crawl up in order to reach zero. The only glimmer of hope I see in this, is that one day I can write a book. I am thinking, "The Definitive Guide to Dominica Real Estate Nightmares".

livingdominica: I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried...

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...

Land Deal Gone Wrong Hell

A friend of mine wrote me an email asking about our current land situation. Here was my reply:

"We are slogging away at the land issues, but I think this last year is something out of Dante's Inferno. We are stuck in some Dominican land-deal-gone-wrong hell."

Forget the beggars on the streets asking for bread money, forget your recent terminal diagnosis. I am the one you should really pity. I continue to feel bereft and homeless. I bumped into a friend on the street in Roseau who commented that our landslide (which he can see from his house) keeps getting bigger. I should have a snappy response to that, but I don't. If you can suggest one I would be so pleased.

I could try this: "Oh really? And we thought it would start getting smaller!" or maybe "We thought the situation sucked so badly the whole thing would disappear into a black hole." Or maybe I will just act American and beat up anyone who mentions our plight. Of course Mr. Wizard is ever so much more evolved than I, so he would not participate in street violence. I'm kinda on my own with that plan. If you are up for a fight, come give me a hand. Maybe we'll start a street gang. You figure out the hand signs, I'll buy the spray paint.

I am indulging my blatant self pity re: the Dominican land-deal-gone-wrong level of hell, but you get the idea. Our current L.D.G.W.H. involves endless waiting, attorneys who do not return phone calls or keep appointments, and a depleting bank account as we pay rent on a house with a leaky roof and termites. Lucy definitely had a hand in this.

I can find one slight glimmer of hope. I think the Wiz and I are burning off a mountain of accumulated Karma, and will eventually emerge shining and pristine from beneath the pyre to live in splendor. Or we will end in utter madness. Depending on how long this all takes. (Wiz will probably get the splendor, as I descend into madness...)

livingdominica: ever striving to be the tragic figure from some maudlin old story. Can't you just hear the sobbing violins?

A Visit to Wit's End

We owned a farm high in the mountains of Dominica where we planned an organic farming venture. Unfortunately, a massive landslide occurred after the hill beneath our land was undercut just prior to Hurricane Dean. One life has already been lost to this feat of engineering. What is left of our property is now unstable, unbuildable, and unfarmable.

When we bought this property it had many trees that have now also been lost to the slide. You could dig down over two feet and still find the richest topsoil imaginable, perfect for organic farming. And we had a local farmer enthusiastic to start work on our chemical free farm.

But that dream may be lost.

We finally went up again to view the damage at Wit's End. The views remain breathtaking, some of the best on the island.

But landslides continue on a nearly daily basis according to our neighbor, David. His ears are sharply attuned to the sounds of crashing slides, since he will probably lose his brand new house.

David's situation is additionally sad since he acts as foster father to a couple of Dominican children. These kids had just begun to settle into the security of a stable home, but now have to listen for the sounds of the hill falling away beneath their house. It makes your heart ache to see these youngsters who have already gone through so much only to face this.








This is the cliff left after the slide was cleared. This entire area used to be underneath our farm. I have heard this road may actually be opened to the public without the hill being stabilized. I hope that is not true.












The slide has now advanced up to where the build line for our house was located.

We have been out avidly looking for land, only to find that we will probably never again find the special combination of attributes that made Wit's End.


livingdominica: When we die, I hope we will finally go live on our farm at Wit's End and call it Paradise.

The Swedish Guy Who Built the Airplane

We have been looking for land up around the village of Cochran. That is where the "Swedish Guy Who Built the Airplane" lives. We have been hearing about him since our very first visit to the island.

We first heard the story when we were sitting drinking an icy glass of juice in the small east coast village of Petite Soufriere. This pretty little village clings to a hillside at the end of a winding road. We felt quite happy finding this spot to sit in the shade and drink juice with the locals, watching the sea. One guy smiled and said to me, "I work up in Cochran. There are lots of white people up there. You know, that is where the Swedish Guy Who Built the Airplane lives." (FYI, In Dominica, "lots of white people" means more than one.)

That was our introduction, but over the years we have repeatedly heard about S.G.W.B.A. Now I do not know the truth of the story, but I will share what we have heard. Apparently, this fellow built an ultra light aircraft in the mountain village of Cochran (elevation 1650 feet) hauled it down the winding narrow roads of Dominica (!), attached the wings, and flew off. The story I heard was that he flew to the States. Of course that may have been embellishment, artistic license. But it is a great story, and I have enjoyed it each time I have heard it.

There was, in fact, a Swedish community up in Cochran founded by some intrepid Swede who divided land into lots and sold them for vacation homes back in the 60's. These original owners have mostly retreated back to Sweden in their elder years. But the S.G.W.B.A. still owns a house there. We heard he might sell, so we went tramping around to have a look. Hmm. Mighty close to that steep edge... But still. We later got his email address to send an inquiry.

I got a nice email back. S.G.W.B.A. is not sure he wants to sell.

It might have been fun to live in the house of a local legend. I mean, how many Swedes build aircraft on small tropical islands and fly away? And we would always have an interesting story with which to greet visitors. I can just see Mr. Wizard with his chest puffed out, "This house was once owned by the Swedish Guy Who Built the Airplane. Let me tell you the story..."

Update: there has been a documentary made about S.G.W.B.A. called Celebration of Flight.

livingdominica: and have I told you the story about the American woman who lost her mind when her farm slid down the hill?

Happy Acres

Gee, I hope our next land doesn't look like this.



I have a good friend who always talks about she and I ending up in Happy Acres (a fictional institution for the mentally ill who can no longer cope). So maybe our next land should be Happy Acres. I have come up with some other names, but none have the sweet ring of Wit's End. I really loved that name. Bill Wilson, who founded Alcoholics Anonymous, called his office Wit's End. I stole the name from ol' Bill.

So, Clever Readers, here is your big chance to name our next shrewd land deal. But please. No Sliding Acres or Volcano Ridge. Here are some thoughts I had:

In Stead Of
It's About Time
Last Laugh
Long Wait
Y Worry
Retread Acres
Plan B
Dirt and a Roof

And here are the Exciting Prizes!

I will send the person who submits the winning name a gift from Dominica. Or, if you are on the island, I will buy you lunch.

livingdominica: so, what have you got to lose? Enter our contest today and win exciting prizes or a Creole lunch. This contest is not available to employees of livingdominica or their subsidiaries. (That means you, Wiz.) All decisions are final, and clever names not chosen still become the property of livingdominica. I mean, who knows how many names we will need before we finally get this right....

Islands Magazine

Islands Magazine interviewed Roger and I in their June 2007 issue. Check out the article "Best Islands to Live On"!

Planning to build in the Caribbean? Read this first...

Caribpro Magazine has a great article all expat house builders should commit to memory.
Better Building : Stop the Construction Carnival by James Post tells it like it is. I have heard enough construction nightmare stories to write another book. And do not discount the warning from Mr. Post about contractors who disappear with funds counting on the ineffectual legal system to prevent them suffering real consequences. This happened to a friend of ours.

Another friend found that the inflow to her septic tank ran uphill! Not a pretty picture, is it?

No wonder we want to build our own house.

livingdominica: yep, there are sharks in the construction waters who smell expat blood...