Living Dominica

Greetings from Living Dominica in Exile

2008-12-29T00:31:00.005-04:00

I have heard from several readers, and I wanted to post a brief update. Mr. Wizard, Chester and I are all well and happy. We made the transition back to U.S. life and are busy like all folks here seem to be.

I am working as a psychiatric nurse which I am enjoying immensely. Psychiatric staff are a funny group and I seem to have found a niche. I particularly like talking with psychotic patients. One night I was chatting with a nice fellow who hears voices, and I asked him what the voices were saying. He thought for a minute, then reported that the voices told him "she's a nice lady." Well, who could need higher praise than that?

Mr. Wizard is involved in some spurious endeavour involving zero's and one's in various sequences and combinations. That is the best I can do to explain that magic.

Chester is aging and sleeps a great deal, but he managed the trip back from Dominica to the US as if it were no problem.

We had purchased a small condo when we returned to the US, and it has become cramped. I usually refer to our home as The World's Smallest Condo. We are now buying a house that is probably too big for our needs. But, I think we have always done things to the extreme, this is no different.

I have to admit that sometimes a memory of the island comes wafting like a scent and I feel an ache for the beauty and all the other gifts of my island life. But that happens less often, and all and all, we are liking our post-Dominica life. Life is so much easier here.

livingdominicainexile: Happy Holidays to all!

Islands Magazine

2008-06-23T17:23:00.000-04:00

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

Living Past One Hundred on Dominica

2008-06-01T07:26:00.000-04:00

Portrait of Ma Pampo by Powys Dewhurst

"It’s no secret.
You take fresh foods, clean water, pure air and lots of exercise. You add low stress, a loving family and strong belief in God. For Dominica’s centenarians, it all adds up to a longer and healthier Life." Or so says the Pan American Health Organization in their article about long lived Dominicans.

I am not sure what accounts for the longevity observed on Dominica, but this island is known for long years and good health into old age. Ma Pampo was 128 when she died!

Could it be because Dominica herself is alive? Beneath her fertile soil burns the largest concentration of volcanoes anywhere on earth. She is home to a lake which boils and hot spring mineral baths. Gases from a volcano bubbling at the ocean's edge creates the "Champagne", which attracts both tropical fish and snorkelers.

The living fertility of this island provides foods rich in nourishment, unlike tired factory farmed produce fertilized with three chemicals. Locals on Dominica eat food fresh from the garden, not picked green and shipped for days to consumers. Picking oranges or grapefruit in the garden warm from the sun, and squeezing fresh juice, I can taste the rich, living island in each mouthful.

Dominica's air is also amazing. A rainforested island, her winds are scrubbed clean by the Atlantic, then oxygenated by the dense foliage. I imagine being healed of the years of living in St. Louis during Ozone Warnings when, "People with respiratory problems should stay indoors".
I mean, don't we ALL have a respiratory problem if the air outdoors warrants warnings?

(I must admit Roseau can give me a headache, probably from concentrated pollution. But I avoid Roseau whenever possible.)

Do I expect to live as long as Ma Pampo? No, I don't. I do know I feel better here than anywhere else on earth. I feel truly alive here on this enchanting island.

Here is a directory of the Centenarians on Dominica.

livingdominica: I do so love that picture of Ma Pampo...

Why my husband is called Mr. Wizard

2008-05-24T08:43:00.000-04:00

Don Herbert, the original Mr. Wizard

Our daughter and I have called the man of the house Mr. Wizard for years. In fact, the name may even predate our 29 year old child, I can't be certain since my synapses do not fire like they once did. Old Americans, like myself, may remember that the original Mr. Wizard had a children's TV show in the 50's teaching science concepts.

But I do remember that the name for my husband started at a campfire on a starry night.

The Wiz has always been interested in physics, theories about the formation of the cosmos, and other gee-whiz stuff. My background at that time was more arts and literature, so I found this utterly fascinating. I recall sitting drinking wine at a campfire staring up at a sky thick with stars. "Tell me about the Universe, Mr. Wizard" I asked. And so he seduced me with big bang theory (apropos, eh?), the idea of an ever expanding galaxy, and of our minute spot in the magnificence of space and time. I was dazzled. (But I always was easy when it came to guys with big brains.)

The name stuck, and thirty some years later he is still Mr. Wizard. But only on the days when I like him. When I am pissed off, I don't call him much that is worth repeating. You probably guessed that, since 30 years is a very long time. But I do still like him most days.

As I recall this, I am reminded of something Cynthia Jones of Diana's Grove wrote:

"I will sing the song that the Universe sang on the day that the Earth was newly born and She held it in Her starry arms."

livingdominica: I wonder what that girl at the campfire would think if she could see me today, living on this wayside tropical island.

The Mustard Seed

2008-04-10T15:30:00.000-04:00

"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." --Jesus

When I was 2 my Dad died in a car wreck, leaving my Mother lost as to how to cope with 3 kids. During the trials, (literal and figurative) which followed his death my Mother wore a necklace like the one pictured here. It contains a tiny mustard seed. She used to tell me it reminded her that she only needed to have a little bit of belief for things to work out. I still have that necklace and I have been wearing it recently, hoping it will provide the same reminder to me.

As an adult I discovered this Buddhist story about the mustard seed. Isn't it interesting that both teachers used a mustard seed in their parable?

A woman was grief stricken with the death of her beloved child. Distraught, she came to the Buddha begging him to restore life to her precious baby. The Buddha agreed to help her only if she could bring him a mustard seed from a home that had never suffered death and grief. The woman searched franticly, asking everyone, but was never able to find a home untouched by the sadness of loss. Slowly, she came to see that her loss was not special or unique. All souls suffer. All are touched by death and loss. Her grief was healed when she found compassion for others through her own grief.

That story kind of kills off the "poor Me", doesn't it? And why is it that the best and most powerful lessons in life are also the most painful? Probably to open our hearts to the pain of others. When I was a hospice nurse, I noticed the very best hospice nurses had cared for their own dying relatives.

livingdominica: I am a very lucky woman. May I never forget that.

Mr. Wizard and the Wall Street Journal

2008-03-25T07:46:00.004-04:00

Mr. Wizard had a chat with a writer for the Wall Street Journal. You can read the article here.

Are you yearning for Dominica?

2008-03-08T08:44:00.000-04:00

Before I lived here, I used to crave Dominica like chocolate. Any picture I could find of the island would be savored. I know from emails I get that some of you are feeling this craving, so here is a Dominica feast for you.

Some delightful people visited the island recently and have put a slide show on the web of our beautiful island. And the images are set to music of the Kings of Cadence.

You can get your Dominica fix at: Photodex. There is a plug in you may need to download. Ken Bosma is the photographer, and he took this lovely picture of the ginger lily in my garden.

My Friend Francis is gone

2008-02-28T12:45:00.006-04:00

I heard yesterday from Kendra at Island Med Student blog that Francis died on Tuesday. I know many of you have followed Mr. Rasta's plight and have contributed to his care. I am so grateful to each of you who helped to ease the difficult life of this special man.

Francis touched my heart in a way few people have done. He was so reluctant to ask for help, so at peace with himself and accepting of the terrible challenges he faced. I learned so much from him in the short time I knew him. He was able to rise above his circumstances in a way I am not. I never knew him to whine and wallow (as I am prone to do).

He was a gift in my life. A living example of grace with a touch of Caribbean/Rastafari sweetness.

The last time I spoke with him, he told me he would always hold me in his heart. I spoke the same words to him. And I believe that we do still hold a special place in our hearts for one another. I will never forget him.

His funeral is today at the Catholic Church in St. Joseph if you are on the island and wish to attend.

My life with humidity

2008-02-02T13:45:00.001-04:00

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.

The Dominica Ebook

2008-01-28T08:24:00.000-04:00

January has been a record month for book sales at Living Dominica. It is gratifying when lots of people find their way to our web page and choose to purchase our book. I suppose when the weather up north is cold and miserable, the book is even more appealing. Thank you to all you book buyers!

It is interesting to me the number of emails we get from people looking at a move to Dominica based on my eBook. We have even heard from people prepared to invest in property sight unseen! I always discourage this and tell them to come down, and get a feel for the island. I think that renting here for a while, allowing Dominica to seep into your pores before buying, is an excellent idea. You have to be comfortable with the differences to make a go of it here.

For instance, one time I was encouraging our daughter to join us in living on Dominica. "But what do I do when it is 3AM and I am dying for a cheeseburger?" she replied. Suggesting that she consider making her own was not appealing. Clearly, she is not ready to live here even though she finds the island dazzling.

If you are not ready to leave behind easy access to cheeseburgers, you are not ready for Dominica.

Dominica is a land of such promise. The natural beauty is amazing, and the people are warm and welcoming. It is an easy place with which to fall in love. But it also will serve up its share of frustrations and difficulty. I recently heard the following from a person who owns a home here:

"I've experienced some of the most beautiful as well as most horrifying times on this unique island which seems to be constantly calling for drama. I still love Dominica and consider her my home, although I am presently living on another Caribbean island. Whenever I visit, which is at least 3 - 4 times a year, and watch from the plane as Dominica's tall green body appears mystically through the clouds, I know I am coming home.

Dominica can give you everything, but also take everything."

I guess that says it all, doesn't it?

livingdominica: you probably know that Dominica's indigenous name is Waitikubuli, meaning Tall is Her Body. Isn't that lovely...

2008-01-25T09:50:00.000-04:00

"Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees." Revelations 7:3

Kendra does PMH

2008-01-25T06:35:00.001-04:00

Be sure to visit Kendra at Island Med Student as she writes about Princess Margaret Hospital
and her clinical rotations.

2008-01-24T04:48:00.002-04:00

Dominica can give you everything, but also take everything.

Dear Readers

2008-01-22T12:03:00.001-04:00

I may in the near future start another book and incorporate some of the writing from this blog into that work. I have therefore removed some of my blog posts from the public domain.

Here is my current working title: "How I Moved to the West Indies and Lived to Tell the Tale"

2008-01-22T09:26:00.001-04:00

We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. --Joseph Campbell

We visit a village health center

2008-01-18T06:55:00.001-04:00

Mr. Wizard and I visited a village health center with our friend Mr. Rasta. He goes there every day, including weekends, to have his dressing changed, since his tumor is now too massive for him to manage on his own. (Life Goes On is facilitating transportation for his dressing changes, and continue to do laundry for him each week.) I got to meet some of his nurses, see the clinic, and watch them change his dressing.

I was impressed.

The clinic was spacious with a large waiting room with educational materials on the walls and a TV. The exam room was well equipped. Everything was neat and very clean. And the nurses did an excellent job changing the dressing. (I have to admit they did a better job than I do, as they are not as messy I am)

I had the very pleasant task if delivering dressings to the clinic. Some kind readers of this blog, and nurses at the hospital where I worked, sent large boxes of dressing supplies for my friend. It was such a pleasure to get to give the nurses these supplies and Mr. R was very pleased also.

I am, of course, very concerned about the continuing growth of Mr. R's tumor and the noticeable weight loss we are seeing. His appetite is falling off and he is becoming weaker.

Mr. R. is Rastafari and has a deep love of all things of nature. We printed off the Hubble pictures of deep space for him and he marveled at discovering yet another source of nature's innate beauty, beyond the stars. These images spoke to his gentle soul the way they do to me, I think.

livingdominica: Thank you to those of you who went to the expense and trouble of sending supplies down to Mr. Rasta.

Tennessee Williams and Me

2008-01-17T10:22:00.000-04:00

"Don't look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you'll know you're dead. " --Tennessee Williams

I fell in love with the work of Tennessee Williams as a young adolescent, and this love affair never died. I love the passionate, seedy Southern life he portrays. Perhaps because my roots are in the seedy South. I love the way he crafts words and paints pictures, making magic with vowels and consonants. For years as a young woman I talked of going to New Orleans, or Key West (wherever he was living at the time) and filling his mailbox with roses. Isn't that a pretty idea?

Unfortunately, this was all the hot air and posturing of youth. I never made it to that mailbox. I never bought those roses.

Tennessee Williams was from my home town of St. Louis, Missouri. He loathed St Louis. He never said a good word about it. Just watch The Glass Menagerie and you'll see why. It was where he ran from. So of course when he died, his brother brought him there to bury him. Yep, the lawyer brother decided to plant him in exactly the last place on earth he would want to be.

"The most dangerous word in any human tongue is the word for brother. It's inflammatory." --Tennessee Williams

This travesty did allow me to finally see my hero face to face. He was dead of course. But still, maybe he was around somewhere nearby watching.

One advantage of looking like I do is that I appear sweet and harmless. I went to the funeral home before the public events started, and charmed the funeral guy with my best harmless wiles. He let me sit alone with Tennessee, marveling at the overpainted face and mahogany monstrosity they placed him in.

No, I did not buy him roses. He was dead, after all. Roses are meant for the living. And definitely not for brothers who bury you in the last place you want to be. Williams' body was interred in the Calvary Cemetery, St. Louis, Missouri, despite his stated desire to be buried at sea at approximately the same place as the poet Hart Crane, whom he considered one of his most significant influences.

livingdominica: if anyone on the island would like to do a production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, I think I would be a perfect Big Mama.

Burning tires in paradise

2008-01-13T11:07:00.003-04:00

We spent our weekend working downwind of a neighbor's burning. Here the common practice is to throw a tire in the mix of burning brush to support combustion. So house, laundry and our lungs were filled with burning tire smoke for two solid days. I had a two day sinus headache. And that doesn't even compare to the environmental impact of this practice. Who cares about global warming and air pollution? Throw another tire on! Never mind that 85 % of a tire is carbon--making them another source of greenhouse gas emissions. Never mind that burning tires emits serious levels of carcinogens and mutagenic material into the air. According the EPA, our neighborhood should have been evacuated or we should all have worn respirators this weekend.

Mr. Wizard has fought this battle more than once. He has argued vehemently with hired workers that they are never to burn tires on our land, and he has met consistent incredulity. "But that is what we do here..." He has to repeat the mantra frequently: no tire burning, no tire burning, no tire burning...

Here on the Nature Island, not only do we have the inevitable pollution of a refinery imminent, but we have the ongoing and time honored practices of tire burning, noise pollution, and general littering to cope with. There is a disconnect here between the goal of preserving the island and all things natural, and the reality of entitled destruction. Sometimes it seems to me that the island is honored only as long as an eco tourist with dollars is listening.

Please, Dominica, don't just pour your energy into developing a tourist "product". Pour your energy into education and environmental protection. Into changing the prevalent destructive practices. Into saving this green jewel before it is too late.

And stop the refinery. There is no such thing as a non-polluting refinery, Friends. A frequent argument for the refinery is that it will bring jobs. But it will also cause jobs to be lost! When the resident whale pod moves on because of polluted waters, whale watching will die here. When the reefs are destroyed, the dive industry will die. When the air is full of refinery belched emissions, the entire tourist industry may die. When the first environmental "accident" occurs and there is a spill, the fishing industry will be seriously impacted.

livingdominica: who is so hoping that the neighbor is done burning. cough, cough, wheeze...

Thoughts on Money

2008-01-07T07:07:00.001-04:00

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.

Morning Meditation

2008-01-03T06:13:00.000-04:00

Mr. Wizard and I have a very inconsistent meditation practice. But we do continue to try to incorporate meditation and prayer into our daily lives. One of the things we had hoped to find on Dominica was the time and space to expand these practices of spiritual unfolding. Unfortunately, our ability to be "too busy" and our procrastination followed us to the island like all the other character flaws we developed into full flower while living up North.

But this morning we did sit in meditation on the back veranda. I had a lot of difficult getting quiet, but I was able be present in the moment as we sat. Each breath was moist as soft rain fell making a dull pitapat on the leaves in the garden next to me. Birds sang their morning celebration song. The pug snored softly in his meditation.When I opened my eyes, a mist was rising from the verdant green hills before me and the living presence of this island was immanent. Of course humanity is immanent also, and a car screeched down the road, its driver probably late for work.

These are the moments which make me glad I am exactly where I am. The idea of listening to the furnace or A/C hum instead of hearing the birds and rainfall seems unfathomable. The image of hiding from the elements in a box, rather than being connected daily, seems an impossibility. All of the easy comforts of the Big World cannot make up for the prison life of house and job we once knew.

livingdominica: and glad she is here, today anyway.

Spiritual Tourism

2007-12-30T08:54:00.001-04:00

"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind." -- Albert Einstein

If you have looked at my blogger profile, you will see I list my profession as Spiritual Tourist. I have always found worthwhile bits and pieces from a myriad of spiritual traditions. Even things I might find a bit silly have a place in my sacred toolbox. At one time I had a positively glorious collection of trashy religious art. I loved it. I think I still have a flocked picture of Our Lady of Guadeloupe somewhere. I admire the kind of devotion which puts a statue of Mary in an upright bathtub in Saint Louis, or in more exotic locations, builds roadside shrines. And I love prayer flags!

I also believe spiritual things, and life in general, must be approached with humor. Nothing is sacreligious to me. If God made pugs, He/She must have a sense of humor. So, I have to laugh at Mr. Deity.

In Saint Louis there is a custom that when selling your house, you bury a statue of Saint Joseph upside down in the front yard. I can' t remember if he is supposed to face the house or the curb. All of the Catholic supply stores sell small statues for this purpose, with instructions on how to do it properly. You think I am kidding? Our house sold in less than a week at higher than the listing price. I dunno why these things work, but they seem to. And I am not Catholic. At least not recently.

There is an order of nuns in Saint Louis, commonly known as the Pink Sisters, who have remarkable success with the power of their prayer. They are a contemplative order who wear hot pink habits, and live smack in the middle of a very tough gang neighborhood where I once did hospice nursing. I used to go sit in their chapel during my lunch break. Maybe that is why I never had any harm come to me.

Anyway, a number of years ago, Pope John Paul II was coming to Saint Louis in January. That month is notorious for awful weather and people were worried, so they set the Pink Sisters to work on it. We had the best weather ever for that visit. (Hmmm. Maybe those Pink Sisters need to be praying for us as we build a house in Dominica.)

So of course I love Saint Expedite. Saint Expedite is the patron of those who hope for rapid solutions to problems, who wish to avoid or put an end to delays. And I certainly need his help right now.

There is a humorous tale about the arrival of Saint Expedite in New Orleans: The story goes that in outfitting the Chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the priests sent off for a statue of the Virgin. Many months later, they received TWO crates instead of one. They opened the first and it contained the statue of Mary, which they had commissioned. They turned to the unexpected second crate, which said EXPEDITE on the outside. There they found the statue of a Roman centurion, and mistook the shipping instructions -- EXPEDITE, meaning, "expedite this shipment" -- to be the name of a saint.

Expedite may be my favorite saint. I used to have a stack of his prayer cards, but I passed them out to friends who needed something expedited. I would love someone to send me some more.

livingdominica: I also honor the solar wheel, have participated in sweat lodges, and meditated with the Buddhists. I am totally nondiscriminatory when it comes to the spiritual life, and therefore probably offend everyone. Sorry.

My least favorite present was from DOWASCO

2007-12-29T11:19:00.001-04:00

DOWASCO is our water company. And yet again, we have no water service.

The sound of the jackhammer is filling the air, but the workers say they have not figured out the problem yet. We are in our second? third? day without water. It seems like a lifetime, since we are also feeling unwell at Chez Miller. And additionally, we have a new, leaky puppy who requires lots of attention and mopping up.

That means lots of water hauling. And the laundry is piling high.

Oddly enough, I heard the Minister over the utilities pontificate last night on TV about how DOWASCO is poised to provide service to the entire island. How will that happen if we do not have consistent water to the areas already served? Oh well, it was a lovely speech. But they all are, these speeches extolling the grandeur yet to come.

I think I'll go back to bed. My misery index is up. I am sure the power will go out next just to complete this picture of tropical bliss.

livingdominica: I should have written Santa asking for consistent utility service.

One of my favorite presents was from a reader

2007-12-26T12:30:00.000-04:00

blueright wrote:

Merry Christmas Jen & Mr.Whiz,

One of the gifts I bought for my Love is a mustard seed pendant, like the one you wrote about on Tuesday, September 25, 2007. I have printed your post and wrapped it with the pendant. Thanks for the meaningful gift idea.

God Bless

Thank you, blueright, for sharing this with my family and I.

It Ain't Easy Here

2007-12-18T07:24:00.002-04:00

Gentle Readers,
In case you missed this reoccurring theme, let me once again mention that life is tough on Dominica. Tough enough to make people flee, leaving behind everything they own.

Let me explain.

I got a call this morning shortly after 6 AM (!) from an expat woman I have never met, who was having a panic attack. She sold her house in the US, bought land in Dominica, ordered a car from Japan, and brought down a shipping container of her belongings. She has lived here just 2 months, and is ready to walk away from everything in order to return to the states. She hates it here. It is not at all like an island vacation.

I have read that 40% of people expatriating to any country will return home within the first 2 years. I believe this number is probably larger on Dominica since most everything here is a trial fraught with difficulties, delays, and shortages. (Good friends of ours have had their construction project halted due to there being no cement on the island!)

This panicy woman phoning at the crack of dawn is not the first person I have met walking away from their Dominican dream in despair. So let me state again for those of you dazzled by the dream of island living:

Do not invest more than you can walk away from.
Rent first to make sure Dominica is for you.
Try an experimental mini-move if you can, without dismantling your life completely.
Proceed with caution in all matters, using an attorney for all transactions.
Build a support systems of other expats, so you have people with similar experiences with whom to problem solve. Your Dominican friends just will not understand the Culture Shock you will inevitably experience.
Do not move here anticipating that you will easily generate income to support yourself.
Please call me only during regular Living Dominica office hours of 1:00 PM to 1:15 PM. (Someone else called us recently at 11:30 PM because they were experiencing their first Swarm)

Most likely I would have run back to the states already if Mr. Wizard did not have the tenacity (read stubbornness) born of his Germanic heritage. I would probably be up there shoveling snow and wishing I were down island again. Nowhere is perfect, but the grass does always appear greener where ever I am not located. So I perfectly understand the impulse to run away from island life.

livingdominica: I recently had business cards printed which gives all my various contact information and clearly states in bold:

You have to be a little crazy.

Thoughts on the Volcanoes

2007-12-18T07:08:00.000-04:00

Dominica is home to one of the highest concentrations of volcanoes on the planet. Some experts say 8, some list 9, but all agree on one point: we are overdue for an eruption here. And of course the area of densest population around Roseau (where we live) is where some of the worst volcanic risk exists. We have heard that the merchants of the island have bought up property in Portsmouth just in case it should become again the capitol city. Even for a Queen of Denial like myself, it is enough to give pause.

Mount Pele today.
In 1902 Mount Pele erupted just next door in Martinique, killing 30,000 denial prone people like myself in the "Paris of the West Indies", Saint Pierre. The mountain had been rumbling for quite a while, spewing ash, and the streets were awash with panicked snakes, centipedes, ants and the like. Still the people stayed at the foot of Pele, until May 8, 1902 when a pyroclastic cloud with temperatures to 1000 degrees C descended, covering the town and harbor.

Blessing of the dead in Saint Pierre.

The Wiz and I visited the Mount Pele museum last year and stood slack-jawed staring at the artifacts fused and warped by the intense heat. Looking at old pictures of the streetcars and the opera house in Saint Pierre it is a bit understandable how this sophisticated European community felt it could never happen to them.

Dominica is just 30 miles from Mount Pele, so the eruption had a great impact on this island also, including this observation by our most famous daughter, Jean Rhys:

At her home at the corner of Cork Street and Granby Street, now Independence Street, the 11-year-old Gwen Rees-Williams, later in life to be known as Jean Rhys, was taken to a window by her mother and was shown the glow to the south and the falling ash:
'My mother woke me and without saying anything led me to the window. There was a huge black cloud over Martinique. I couldn’t ever describe that cloud, so huge and black it was, but I have never forgotten it. There was no moon, no stars, but the edges of the cloud were flame-coloured and in the middle what looked to me like lightening flickered, never stopping. My mother said: ‘You will never see anything like this in your life again.’ from Mount Pele and Dominica

So, here we are looking at property at the foot of Morne Anglais. Hmmm.

livingdominica: I just may change my name to Cleopatra since I am the Queen of Denial...