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?

Thoughts on Suffering

I met with Mr. Rasta again yesterday, and things are getting worse for this poor man. He is very frustrated because his tumor is growing much bigger and the doctors here have said they cannot surgically intervene because of bleeding risks. As his tumor grows, he is becoming more isolated in his community. "People are afraid." Tears flow as he tells me about sitting alone in his poverty, hoping that a solution will appear.

I listen to him and try to communicate the acceptance and caring he needs as much as he needs food and medical attention. I give him a few things and agree to meet him next week at the Life Goes On house. Not much help. I feel pretty lame.

The Life Goes On house is a little haven for people living with HIV and their caregivers who may be shunned in their own communities. It is a place of support and acceptance where both body and spirit are nourished. I can only imagine what it must feel like to have this welcoming spot full of caring people when isolation and fear are ever present.

Of course funding is always an issue for Life Goes On. The bus needs fuel and insurance. The house always needs food to share with the community. Sometimes the needs here on Dominica seem like a bottomless hole where my little help is mostly futile. Just a drop in the bucket.

But, of course, if my drop is added to your drop and all the other drops, soon the bucket begins to fill.

Looking into the face of suffering is so difficult. It is easier to turn away, of course. We all have plenty of personal suffering (and it is much easier to focus on my own pain, rather than embrace the suffering of someone like Mr. Rasta). Helping can be like walking the razor's edge between the care of the self and care of others. At one time, during my hospice years, I allowed the suffering of others to swallow me whole. I am older now, and less likely to completely throw myself on that razor. But nontheless, living in a world of suffering does call to me to do something when I can. No matter how inadequate and lame it may be.

livingdominica: maybe it is time to read Ram Dass's How Can I Help again...

Minutes of the First Meeting of the Book Club

At 4 PM on October 12, 2007 the first meeting of the Book Club was held in the bar of the Fort Young Hotel. Attending this meeting were Jen Miller and Chris Lawrence (who really doesn't like to read much but came because I asked her and she is my friend). The meeting began promptly at 4 PM and Officers were elected. Chris Lawrence was nominated to the esteemed position of Lofty Matron of Unread Books (LMUB) Jen Miller was nominated to a temporary position of Recording Secretary and Honorable Matron of the Slippery Land (HMSL).

Refreshments were served.

New Business: It was decided that should anyone be interested in a Book Club other than the LMUB and the HMSL, they should step up and arrange the next meeting. This motion was passed by acclaim.

Refreshments continued.

Old Business: None.

Admiration for the plantings in the bar were expressed by one member, and another member offered that she had occasionally pinched a start off the plants here.

Refreshment concluded.

The meeting was adjourned at 4:45 PM by unanimous vote.

Meeting notes respectfully submitted by Jen Miller, HMSL and Temporary Recording Secretary.

Dengue Alert

An interesting post about our Dengue situation in Dominica is found at The Woodshed Environment.

This is not a Disney World Island

A friend of mind calls those other islands the "Disney World Islands". (you know, the ones which have turned themselves into plastic versions of a Caribbean island)

Wit's End Update

More slides, no stabilization started. We hear that the Cubans are now to look at it. I believe this will be the fourth group of foreign engineers to visit the landslide; including Canadian, French, Chinese, and now Cuban. It is a veritable United Nations up at our land. Are you familiar with the crass American anacronym SNAFU?

livingdominica: here is the more civilized version for our genteel Brit friends. Situation Normal All Fouled Up.

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

If Haiti had oil, would we care more?

I have been reading about Theo's work for a while. I found him by way of his blog, because they built the cool earth bag house at his project on Haiti. I watch his sites regularly now, and admire the incredible amount of good he is doing in caring for these street children.

I did not know about Restaveks, the child slaves of Haiti, even though in 1998 the United Nations estimated there were 300,000 such children. Restavek is a Creole word meaning "stay with", but it has come to mean slavery and abuse of the most horrible kind even for the smallest little children.

We have a lot of Haitians who have come to Dominica looking for work and opportunity. They are incredibly industrious, hardworking people desperate to send a few dollars back to the families left behind. We once had a Haitian housekeeper who told us her first job on Dominica was doing ironing all day long for a hotel, earning EC $25 (US $9.26). She had three children left behind in Haiti. How do you feed yourself and send money back to feed your children on $9 dollars?

Here is a video about Theo's Work on Haiti:



You can watch another video about Aaron Jackson's work in Haiti on CNN.

Tonight, from our veranda

Cross Cultural Living

Dancing the Hokey Pokey

We have some very close friends who live here on the island who are from Switzerland, but we share a mutual friend who sometimes sends us jokes from America. We all got this joke by email:

"Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey," died peacefully at the age of 83. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin.
They put his left leg in. And then the trouble began..."

At dinner the other night our Swiss friends commented, "We got this joke and didn't understand it..." Hmmmm. How to explain the Hokey Pokey to someone from another culture? Only one way to do it. So there I was, with my Zaftig self, singing and dancing the Hoky Poky. Oh my. The things we do to bridge the cultural gaps and pave the way for international harmony.

Video of the Hokey Pokey:


livingdominica: I obviously care more about world peace and understanding than Mr. Wizard who was adamant in his refusal to "put his left leg in..."

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.

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?

Earthrise

"Suddenly, from behind the rim of the moon, in long, slow-motion moments of immense majesty, there emerges a sparkling blue and white jewel, a light, delicate, sky-blue sphere laced with slowly swirling veils of white, rising gradually like a small pearl in a thick sea of black mystery. It takes more than a moment to fully realize this is Earth…home. My view of our planet was a glimpse of divinity."

- Edgar Mitchell, Apollo 14 astronaut and founder, Institute of Noetic Science

Women's Sex Tourism

I am bordering on being an old lady (feel free to argue that with me), and I have been faithfully married for over 30 years, but hey! I had never even heard of sex tourism for women until I read the article inEscape Artist.




Of course I have heard of men going to Thailand for sex, but I didn't realize that the Caribbean is a Mecca for women seeking, what this article calls: "the big bamboo". We have all seen the frumpy white woman with the buff black guy, but who knew? I guess I was naive enough to think the buff young black guys might find us attractive without payment. Hmmm. Wake up and smell the coffee, huh? I guess they are really the new pirates of the Caribbean.

For others with similarly lurid tastes as mine, try googling sex tourism for women. Interesting.



livingdominica: there is no depth to which I will not sink when I need a blog topic and I am sick to death of writing about land. And no, Mr. Wizard, I am not planning a vacation.

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....

Instead Of

Apparently the government has officially declared Wit's End dead. No usable land is left from the original acreage. Maybe we should have a funeral for this dream spot. We could all sign the side of the shack that, amazingly, is still standing as the land slips away. We could play "Taps", or "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes. Or round up a Jing Ping band! If you would like to deliver the eulogy, let me know. In lieu of flowers, send school supplies to the Ministry of Education.

So we are once again looking for a property that might fit our needs. Maybe we will call a new piece of land "Instead Of". I am not sure "Wit's End II" would be prudent. We did see a couple of nice pieces today, but it is very hard for me to operate out of an adult, rational problem solving mindset at this time. Things have been too emotional, too difficult since Dean blew through. I am just sooo ready to have this drama behind us. Just gimme some dirt with a roof over it.

Of course there are lots of people who are in worse shape than we are. Up next to Wit's End, David and his Rasta neighbor are about to watch their houses go down the hill. I wish someone from the government could arrange to move those houses to safety. But the government is pedaling as fast as they can. There are so many needs to try to meet on this island right now.

livingdominica: ok, everyone join in the responsorial: "Dirt and a roof, dirt and a roof. All we need is dirt and a roof..."

More Wit's End Landslides

I imagine the engineers trying to stabilize the Byack landslide now have a full appreciation of the name we gave our land. And I suspect they are ready to kill the guy who thought making that first cut in the hill without building supports was a good idea.

Since the hurricane slide, the crew had once again removed the earth from the road with heavy equipment. More sliding occurred before they could do the protective terracing. Same song, different verse. Word from engineers on the project is that our neighbor David will probably lose his brand new house, and our entire property will be used to "bench" back from the road in order to have things open for tourist season. So Wit's End will be no more. A loss of nearly 5 acres.

There are major tourist attractions up the road from Wit's End which desperately need this project done before the season starts. The livelihood of this neighborhood hinges on tourist dollars. A combination of loss of crops to the hurricane and the loss of tourist income would devastate the mountain villages around the Arial Tram, Titou Gorge, and Freshwater Lake.

Another landslide has blocked the water inlet in our area, so we have been without water also. Fortunately, we have some water stored from our preparation for the hurricane. But this has been a good reminder to always have plenty of stored water.

livingdominica: What can I say? It is never dull here....

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.

I meet Mr. Rasta

Tina and Harry Alexander


I got a call from Tina Alexander yesterday. She is a key person with Lifeline Ministries and also runs Island Guests Realty. She helped us find the lovely Sherbet Cottage which was our rental until until the arrival of our container made it too small. Tina's house is always open and is a hub of many activities, including helping newcomers moving to Dominica find their way. In fact, I got to meet some very nice people who have recently moved to Dominica when I visited there yesterday.

Tina needed a hand with checking on a guy whose brother had called her. This young guy has a very large tumor on his neck which at times smells bad, so we went off to see if we could help. And I got to haul out all my nursing gear, which I enjoyed.

This Rasta guy lives in a very poor house with a spongy floor. It reminded me of my days as a hospice nurse in the poorest sections of my home town. I always worry when I visit folks with shaky houses that I will go through, since I am "a woman of substance" (ok, fat). But luckily I stayed on the sturdy bits and did not fall through. Mr. Rasta did indeed have a very large tumor about half the size of his head, which I dressed for him. He had recently changed the dressing, so the smell was not too bad, but he said he had missed his doctor's appointments because the bus drivers will not let him ride on the buses due to the odor.

This is where Tina's crew can really help. They run a bus through Life Goes On, the HIV/AIDS support organization which can take Mr. Rasta to his appointments. It is available to any person on the island who has difficulty with transportation due to a medical condition. Unfortunately, funding has become an issue for this project.

This fellow is really doing a pretty good job of caring for himself otherwise. But he does not have a lot of family or community support to assist him. Again, Tina's group has a great outreach and support network providing a safety net for those in need, plus a place to rest and be welcomed when they have to go town to see the doctor.

It felt kind of good to go do something a bit nursey after a couple of years of mostly sitting at a computer. And I was struck, once again, that Dominican poverty is much the same as US poverty, just with less "stuff". There are fewer discards and cast offs here. Poor is poor all over but there are fewer resources here, making Life Goes On a critically needed service.

livingdominica: if everyone who reads this blog would send Life Goes On a few dollars, euros or pounds, many people would be helped.