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@projects4peace
Today was our last day in Dominica. We enjoyed lunch at a local restaurant, Rhythm of the River and went on a lovely walk through the delta of the nearby river, passing all the way to its outlet into the ocean. I suppose it was our way of saying goodbye.
As for this blog and the project, they are far from over! We have signs to finish, presentations to arrange, and fundraising to conduct.
Looking forward to seeing friends and family in the coming weeks!
Xoxo,
Maddy and Tim
Friday August 2nd, Day 63 (tim)
(Maddy and I goofing at the pool)
Well we're done with our physical involvement with the project. As we've said, this is by no means an end to Maddy and Tim's Project for Peace, and as such is by no means an end to this blog – we've still got signs to finish, fundraise for, and send over. We'll be (soon) turning the signs into an online program for students across the island. Jem will be using our lesson plans in his classes. And of course, we'll share with you how the actual building progresses as the progress is shared with us.
Also as we've said... this is awesome. The project was designed first and foremost to last long past these two months, and we have every reason to believe, now, that it will!
In the meantime, Maddy and I are living it up – me sitting with my gangly 13-year-old ghost and revisiting the (now-altered) geography of a seminal and beautiful past. This is where Goldie would leave iguana carcasses! There used to be so many potholes here! Wait... they put a roof over the playground?? Oh my goodness you could never get this product when we lived on island. Etc etc etc. It's enlightening in a way I never expected – having spent 2 years of college throwing around the word 'development' like it was something I understood, I'm only for the first time seeing its many facets in action.
One of the major takeaways for me is that the best way to learn is to listen, not just to the wikipedia pages you find on google or when asking questions, but sitting down and fading into the surrounding foliage and letting people talk about what they want to talk about. And after doing a lot of listening the most striking pattern I've noticed is that Development (which happens everywhere but is especially noticeable on a tiny island-nation with a strikingly active political culture) is never linear. Development is listening to five different opinions and realizing that they're all 'right'. One man tells you about the ever-increasing corruption of Parliament, and the next tells you how much more honest everything is nowadays, and the woman next door tells you about how nice it is that Dominica has decent roads now and the woman down the street is furious that the Chinese built the roads and not Dominicans and her sister tells you that the roads are a terrible curse for family life on island.
Another lesson I'll probably never stop learning is that you cannot characterize a foreign country. I lived on this relatively miniscule island for two years as a child and came away "knowing" Dominica. Then I returned this summer and spent two months on the other side of the nation, and decided that Now, Now I Understand This Place. And for our final few days I've come somewhat full-circle, living momentarily where I lived long ago – and again am forced to revisit any concrete notions of Dominica. I could spend my whole life on the island, moving from village to village and job to job and friends to friends, and still have no cohesive understanding of the place.
It's an important realization. People all around the world have Positions, Opinions, they know Right from Wrong and This from That. And we must! To live is to decide, to differentiate, to build a world-view. But those world-views are not exclusionary, and certainly not objective. There're 7.5 billion world-views and each of them holds a grain of truth.
Today Maddy and I trailed our feet on the tile of a pool, snorkeled in the ocean over a sea of silver fish (easily millions of them), and ate a dinner of lionfish and caribbean lobster at a beautiful restaurant with some of my family's dearest Dominican friends. Everything felt like a dream, but also more real than much of my quotidian life.
There's a quote that's haunted me since I read it in mid-June. Travel and international work is, as I said at the very beginning, so very much affecting for the traveler, and not always in a narrow, tourist-of-the-world or project-worker kind of way. And one of my broader and more significant take-aways is this:
“Upon waking in the morning, think to yourself, ‘I am awake and in a dream.’ When you enter the kitchen, recognize it as a dream kitchen. Pour dream milk into dream coffee. ‘It’s all a dream,’ you think to yourself, ‘this is a dream.’ Remind yourself of this constantly throughout the day.”
- Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche, “Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep”
Thursday August 1st, Day 62 (maddy)
Captions
Tim standing in front of one of the apartments his family lived in seven years ago. Conveniently, it is the one directly beneath that belonging to the Hawleys.
Tim and I lunched at "The Shacks," a small strip of local food vendors that he and his brother frequented during their time at Ross Prep.
Tim in front of a beautiful Flamboyant tree on the campus of Ross Medical School. The Flamboyant comes into bloom just in time for summer and is my favorite tree on the island.
Tim poses in the room adjunct to his old middle school classroom (it has since been rededicated to the earlier years of primary school). Above, a banner highlights the many years that have passed since his last visit.
Tim was delighted to find that a painting of Dominica wildlife he and a friend painted while in school was still preserved on one of the tables.
Tim had the wonderful opportunity to reconnect with and I the pleasure of meeting Ms. Fredricks (sorry if I butchered the spelling...), one of the teachers he was close with while in school.
And last but not least, Tim and I enjoy dinner at Bob's Chinese Food with Kyle, one of Tim's classmates from Ross Prep. They had not seen or spoken to each other in over seven years.
As a clever analysis of the above pictures and captions may reveal, this post is actually about Tim. Today was a very special day for him, one that I'm sure he is thrilled to share in his own way, but which I will try to partially convey here as he is asleep, no doubt exhausted from a long day of careening down memory lane.
We dedicated today to an excursion to Ross Medical School, a site I gathered to be replete with memories of seven years ago, a time that was both wondrous and trying to a younger, ganglier Tim Jurney.
We traveled with the Hawleys, both of whom work on or near campus, and after a brief tour and several happy reunions, Tim led me on a tour of the grounds he once roamed when his father taught at the school.
I felt privileged to experience this significant day with Tim. As a non-minnesotan whose parents are inflexibly not doctors, my enthusiasm for this nearly mythical medical school might have remained a little lackluster were it not for Tim's infectious elation at exploring and reconnecting with this disjointed precinct of his childhood. This side of the island, the 'original Dominica' for Tim, feels to me like a completely different country from the one I was living in two days ago. Civilization at last! (reaches for an oreo). In this way, our experiences rightfully differ. While I am so thrilled that this week will be filled with positive connections (for both of us!) and time well spent with the ever-generous Hawleys, I am also just so content to revel in their gloriously dry, food-stocked apartment and to settle down with a good book (I've snagged Dr. Hawley's copy of "The Woman With a Worm in her Brain"). We are so thankful to them for their kindness, and know that the next few days will bloom with fresh and lasting memories.
Looking forward to the next few days, and, of course, reuniting with my family in Pittsburgh. Man am I going to miss this place. Most of all, though, I am going to miss this guy, the best, goofiest, gangliest, know-almost-everything friend around!
All the best,
Maddy
Wednesday July 31st, Day 62 (maddy)
Wow, is it really day 62? Counting the days makes me feel like Tom Hanks in "Castaway" only my companion is Tim instead of Wilson the beach ball.
Alas, it is our last week here, and plans, always fickle, have changed again, I think for the better. Yesterday we were contacted by some family friends of Tim's, the Hawley's, who have graciously invited us to spend our remaining days on the Nature Island at their home in Portsmouth. After a long day of work tying grass, nothing sounded quite so nice as the promise of clean sheets, a week of decent food, and a little time for ourselves to unwind and reflect on these wonderful yet hectic last two months.
(Tim and I cook a dinner of quinoa, vegetable, and chicken stir fry in the Hawley's kitchen. Their apartment is right above the one Tim's family lived in seven years ago, and it was so fun to see his reaction to his old home: "The hibiscus tree is gone!" "That house is NEW!" "This is where Goldy killed a bird one time!")
Too many words about the project need spilled to include them all here, in this more personal post, so many of the grittier details will come later in a more developed project post. I will say that we walked away from 3 Rivers this morning knowing that we had accomplished all we possibly could in two months. The frame is up, the wood and bamboo cut, the grass tied, the stones for the floor collected, and all that remains is to band the pieces together. We have every faith that Jem will see the project through, and are so excited for the many wonderful classes and field trips our building will facilitate. The building, the wind turbine, the solar batteries, and our lesson plans and signs are all part of an important foundation for renewable energy and sustainability education in Dominica.
(Clambering onto the top beam of our nearly finished building was a surprisingly terrifying and rewarding moment. We really built this!)
One fond memory from our last weekend in Rosalie was volunteering to help clean Rosalie Beach. We connected with Judy, a local veteran of the Peace Corps, and together we slapped on our gloves and cleansed the sundry beach debris of bottle caps, straws, bits of string, myriad chunks of shattered plastic, and a couple other very odd items including a few knife handles and a small strainer. The day was hot but the ocean breeze provided a welcome respite from several days of our hackneyed grass cutting ritual (carried out from within the armor of our rain jackets that unfortunately doubled as sweatsuits). It was also a wonderfully simple way of connecting with community members outside of 3 Rivers.
(Tim sporting his gloves and trash collection bag on Rosalie beach. We volunteered to help clean the beach after connecting with Judy, a veteran of the Peace Corps who now avidly participates in Sea Turtle conservation and environmental efforts in the Rosalie area. Myriad bits of plastic and other non-degradable refuse wash up on the beach each day as part of the human ecological footprint).
It is getting late and I am tired so I will leave off reiterating that I am SO excited to relax and enjoy the island for the last week. Tim and I feel so connected to this beautiful place and know that a few days in a more modern setting will ease the transition back to life outside the jungle.
(The truly splendid view of the sun setting over the ocean from the Hawley's porch. I only wish I could snag a few pictures of the stars!)
That is all for now! I'm hoping to do a few more updates over the coming days, preferably with an emphasis on the project and pictures we have yet to share.
Much love to all of our readers and supporters,
Maddy
Maddy here!
I've been wanting to do a post like this for a while now, and I've finally narrowed down the 10 pictures I'd like to include in my Dominica Nature Post!
Known as the Nature Island of the Caribbean, Dominica's rich geologic and anthropological history lend it to an astounding variety in topography and plant, bird, and insect life. In two months time, Tim and I have admired, relished, been startled by, and ultimately become tangled in the beauty and wild mystery of this island and its unfortunately globally threatened inhabitants. In one week's time, we will be leaving, and though our lives will continue, redirected to school pursuits and the assemblage of activity and relationships that compose our so-called 'real lives,' we will carry this wonder and appreciation for sustainability, for the coexistence and indubitable interdependence of man and nature forward through the forking path of our future existence. So, even if a mean hurricane blows through and knocks down our building (why I oughtta!) or a futuristic computer virus somehow destroys our environmental lesson plans, the experience will not have been in vain! In this post, I have chosen to share a handful of photos that I think most exemplify one of the most rewarding aspects of living in Dominica: experiencing the striking and wondrous variety of life it has to offer.
For details check out the captions by clicking on the pictures!
***Edit: A couple people have said they were unable to read the captions on certain browsers so I am including them below as well.
Lizard: As one of the most ubiquitous creatures on the island, the lizard is, I think, easily overlooked. Studying them has reminded me that abundance is often a blessing and even 'common' can be beautiful.
Fishing boat in Roseau: Shot in Roseau, Dominica's capital, this image reminds me that humans and 'the environment' are inseparable. We can and need to coexist sustainably, and I find Dominica is an inspiring model.
Snake: This small snake was a wake up call to the fact that nature doesn't abide by our rules of ownership and personal space. Who's to say they aren't the ones putting up with us?
Moon: The night here in Dominica was crystal clear on July 22nd's full moon. Here, the moon is a powerful force of nature, guiding the local sea turtles and driving the tides of the ocean.
Spider: I'm sure this guy isn't winning any hearts with his appearance. Terrifying as his spindly limbs and creepy teeth may be, he is a person's best friend when it comes to keeping mosquitoes at bay!
Hermit crab: We found this tiny hermit crab on Scott's Head, the southern tip of the island. He was delicate and beautiful and made us feel like parents to this big blue earth.
Bugs: Sometimes even the spiders can't keep the bugs at bay. Pesky as they are, these bus are a reminder that human inventions, like electricity, can confuse and harm other living organisms.
Ruins: A stormy sky clouds the ruins of an old house: this is a fairly common sight in Dominica, but it possesses an uncanny beauty. A haunting reminder that even our buildings, once abandoned, are reclaimed by nature.
Jungle crab: A jungle crab takes refuge under a rock with claws wielded in a protective stance. All we wanted was a picture, but this strange and clownish jungle inhabitant was in no way disposed to play.
Cow: A common cow browses in a field near 3 Rivers. Dominica actually has very few native mammals, and those that do inhabit it are generally domesticated, and may look out of place to an outsider.
Wednesday July 24th, Day 55 (project update)
We are back to cutting grass on the roadsides of La Plaine. This task is by no means our favorite, though it does provide for a steady stream of productive work. Our work doubles as a form of community service, as the roadside must be cleared by volunteers annually.
We have almost completed one side of the grass roof, but had to stop because we ran out of grass. This step is so exciting for us and is a sign that the building is nearly useable. All of the materials are in place, we just have to put the pieces together, and this can easily continue after we leave.
We've come to accept that cutting lemongrass requires full-body protection. So on with the raincoats and pants and gloves, and now that the work is less painful it also is hotter than all get-out. The raincoats, not keeping any water off of us on these hot dry days, have instead served as sweatsuits. It's thirsty work! We're both sleeping inordinate amounts these days and nights.
Tuesday July 23rd, Day 54 (maddy)
Finally, a chance to update the blog!
(Waiting for the ferry to Guadeloupe! He was more excited than he looks.)
I think Tim has covered many of the things we have discussed over the past week or so (Alas, chances to share these thoughts on the blog have been few and far between!), so I will try and keep things fresh!
One of the things we have discussed at length has been our desire to convey that our experience here is in no way limited to simply learning how to build a Kalinago style building! Yes, the gathering of materials and construction of the educational hut has been a huge part of our focus and we have inevitably dedicated most of our daytime working hours to its construction. Still, I think it would be travesty to exclude from this blog the myriad other learning that has taken place in the larger classroom of Rosalie forest, the streets and busses of Roseau, and in the wild and wonderful depths of Dominica’s pristine nature.
For the sake of time, I too shall include a list! A short account of the unique opportunities and learning experiences we have had during our stay:
Loads of cooking: we have had the joy of digging our fingers into Dominica’s rich assortment of delicious fruits, vegetables, roots, and spices. Jem’s property alone harbors pineapples, star fruit, guava, guava berries, a local vegetable called dasheen, water apples, bananas, and coconuts. We have also experimented with fresh ginger, cinnamon, Dominican sweet potatoes (amazing!), and sweet local plantain.
Introduction to Eco-tourism: It’s sometimes easy to forget that 3 Rivers is a functional hotel, partially because summer here is actually the off-season, and partially because we are usually very preoccupied with our building. Still, we have had a number of opportunities to engage in typical hotel management routines, including cleaning rooms, checking in guests, and giving tours. In fact, one of our firsts introductions to 3 Rivers was a crash course in sustainable hotel management, including an introduction to 3 Rivers' blackwater waste management system, rainwater collection tanks, solar and wind generated electricity, food composting system, and a variety of other sustainable construction features.
Introduction to conservation on the island: Since coming to Dominica we have consciously sought out and/or serendipitously encountered opportunities to learn about Dominica’s unique wilderness. Known as the nature island of the caribbean, Dominica has one of the most diverse arrays of flora, bird, and insect life in the world. By exploring Dominica’s Trois Pitons National Park, familiarizing ourselves with Rosalie Beach’s Sea Turtle conservation initiative, and talking at length with knowledgeable individuals like Jem, Isaac (a friend with nearly exclusive expertise on Dominica’s anthropological history), Simon (the local turtle expert), Lincoln and the boys, and various Peace Corps and fellow volunteers serving on island, we have gained an invaluable, though likely incomplete, understanding of the Dominican people’s commitment to the preservation of its unique wilderness. I strongly encourage anyone who is interested to check Out Dominica’s Sea Turtle Conservation Organization here.
Amateur bar tending experience: this almost never resulted in the customer getting what they actually wanted.
Amateur photography experience: We’re working on it!
Amateur blogging and social media outreach experience: Hey, some people read this blog right?
Self-initiated reading challenge: Between the two of us we have read over 14 full length books (plus some poetry anthologies and one really ridiculous and purportedly non-fiction book we found about aliens).
A truly concerted effort to improve our French and French-creole: While we have learned so much more than we could or would ever want to share on this blog, a few of our favorite (French) phrases have included: Sans blague! (no kidding), O la vache! (Oh my gosh! or, literally, O the cow!), and l’aventure continue! (the adventure continues).
Of course this is only a short list and, as Tim mentioned, we are learning far too much to ever practically convey on this blog, though we are certainly committed to sharing as much as possible! Some of these things clearly have a more personal value than others that may fall more neatly into the category of potentially marketable skills. More than anything, I think I am amazed at the variety of this experience and the seemingly endless, multifarious facets of learning I encounter every day. Whether or not I ever get to put those new bar tending skills into action, I am so grateful to be one of the leaders of a project that I believe is worthwhile and that will have a lasting positive impact.
(Enjoying fresh and delicious coconut ice cream with Pauline, Elene, and Maxime at a beach near Bouillante in Guadeloupe).
(A church in Roseau, Dominica’s capital. It had a beautiful exterior and stained glass windows).
(I spent nearly an hour last night playing with the zoom and exposure on my camera. The result: one stunning picture of the full moon on an unusually clear night.)
That is all for now! Fingers crossed that we will be able to include more updates over the coming two weeks, as I’m sure it will be filled with exciting progress. We are really down to the wire now and ready to give this project all of the energy we have left.
Xoxo,
Maddy
Tuesday, July 23rd, Day 54 (tim)
Hello to all!
Maddy and I have been doing a lot of retrospective thinking recently… how has the project gone, do we regret anything, what have we learned? etc. The conversations have been really, really good ones to start having. Some decisions: we don’t regret much at all, really, because seeing Things We Could Have Done Differently requires hindsight, and we’re very proud of the work we’ve put in; the project, which was intentionally over-ambitious, has actually gone shockingly well; we’ve learned more than we could ever possibly say. One thing we’ve also been examining is Stuff Gone Wrong. A huge part of international volunteering is adapting to unexpected change, and allowing plans to melt away in the face of reality. The world, it turns out, rarely adheres to any individual’s plans. Our project is no exception, and at this point we can really start to think about the specific challenges and changes we’ve faced. AND NOW: THINGS THAT HAVE GONE WRONG FOR OUR PROJECT AND HOW WE HAVE ADAPTED TO THESE CHANGES, A LIST :
1. Jem has had way fewer guests, which = less money
reason: this tourism slump is island-wide, and also apparently global
result: fewer people = much more Construction Time needed
result: fewer experts = more mistakes made
2. The building is bigger than originally planned
reason: those who will actually use it decided that it would be more usefulif it were larger
reason: those who will actually use it should have more say over what it will look like
result: bigger structure = much more Construction Time needed
3. More Construction Time = less Volunteer Education Time
reason: if Construction Time increases, then (a) less of the building can be made or (b) less volunteer education can happen
since the building allows for years and years of education, we decided that finishing it was more important than a few lessons
this is in line with our personal philosophy that creating lasting infrastructure and promoting long-term local development is more important than short-term community service
4. Less Volunteer Education Time = chance to do something better
reason: an increase in Construction Time doesn’t mean we have to onlydo construction
result: we decided that educational signs and educational material (to be used both in the structure and by teachers around the island) would be a great replacement for the now-defunct lessons we’d originally planned
5. Less funds = less power
reason: less oil for the generator
reason: the solar panels have been unexpectedly fritzy
DON’T WORRY – the stuff we bought works great. some of the older parts just need to be tinkered with so that everything works together.
result: our computer use has been unexpectedly limited
result: work on educational signs has slowed accordingly, because it requires lots of computer use
this is ok, though! there’s no deadline on the signs or the materials, because lessons won’t start until mid-fall, so Maddy and I can finish this part after we get back.
AND NOW: A SUMMARY OF THE LAST FEW DAYS
(our first morning in guadeloupe, drinking tea out of a bowl (genius!!) and eating Good Bread with Nutella Spread and generally lavishing) Gah! After a few really rewarding and exciting days of roof thatching, we spent the weekend in Guadeloupe to visit Maxime, Pauline and Elene, friends we met when they came to 3 Rivers about a month ago. It was a really nice change of pace… while Maddy and I are very happy with our living situation at 3 Rivers, it is a place of few creature comforts for volunteers. This was absolutely expected and has been in many ways hugely refreshing. Truly a magical and beautiful place, do not get me wrong. But a weekend in comparative luxury, after 6 weeks of damp uncleanliness and hard hard work, was exactly what we needed. Highlights:
French food (cheese! wine! bread! need I say more?)
the unbelievable, overwhelming hospitality of our incredible hosts
snorkeling with sea turtles
seeing the Pointe du Chateau, a beautiful land formation with stunning white-sand beaches nearby and crystalline water
being surrounded by people who generally spoke almost no English
(the easternmost tip of the Pointe du Chateau) It was so nice to see another side of the Caribbean. Guadeloupe is very European (it is, of course, literally a part of France), and much more developed than Dominica. No sense in ranking the two islands… too different for fair comparison. And I cannot exaggerate how wonderful our hosts were – the hugest of thanks and love to Maxime, Elene and Pauline. Not so fun: the ferry ride both ways. Never before have I been seasick but boy did I get seasick. Even so, when it wasn’t rainy, standing on the breezy balcony and watching the ocean was thrilling.
(from left to right: Me, Pauline, Elene, Maxime, and Maddy, posin' happy in the mist of a waterfall we technically weren't allowed to hike to) We were only in Guadeloupe for less than 48 hours, but spent most of 3 full days traveling to and from. On Sunday, when we got back, we found Roseau transformed into a complete ghost town. Nobody in the streets, no bustling traffic, no buses home. Rather than take a hugely-overpriced taxi back to 3 Rivers, we found a cheap guesthouse in town and spent the night exploring this totally transformed city. It was a magical night, really – sunset over the empty oceanside, drifting through a labyrinth of softy lit streets, Chinese cuisine by the glow of a red lamp, hours of uninterrupted musings on our time in Dominica, French culture, and life. Next morning we did some final Tourist Shopping, found a bus home, which turned into a strange 3.5 hour affair involving multiple confusing trips into nearby towns to pick up passengers from their homes and the slowest cross-island driving we’ve ever experienced. Then the normal hike from the main road back to 3 Rivers, an afternoon of planning our next 2 weeks (which promise to be filled with work! so excited!), a river hike, a simple rice dinner, and (finally!) some internet time. Today we cut a bunch more grass (project update coming) and we have returned to being tired sliced-up sunburned calloused happy volunteers. Hoping to keep you much more updated in our final two weeks, and really excited for a major final push. Much, much love, Tim
Tuesday, July 16th, Day 47 (project update)
Hello!
After a busy week (and another power outage) we are back with one of our more exciting updates. Over the past week or so, we have spent many hours tying grass, and we have finally begun assembling our roof! These past two days have been a balancing act of traversing the scaffolding of our grass tie wood with grass bundles and string in hand.
We have both enjoyed these two days tremendously (minus the fire ants that so love to swarm every exposed (and covered) inch of our bodies), and are so excited by the transformation this addition has brought about.
(Maddy piles grass bundles into a wheelbarrow for transport to the building site. The grass has been left to dry for the last few weeks until the scaffolding was in place to install the roof)
(Tim ties the first round of grass bundles. We do this using a thick and durable string that is wound around each bundle successively and pulled tight. This is much more efficient than tying a separate knot for each bundle).
(This picture was taken after our first full day of grass tying. The work went so fast and was surprisingly fun aside from the fire ants. We both made at least one emergency trip to the river nearby to rinse off!)
(The roof after Day 2 of continuous grass tying. We aim to have this side of the roof completed by the end of the week and are learning so much along the way! We tried (and failed) at hammering grass tie wood today and are finding new ways to increase our efficiency daily).
That is all for now! More pictures and personal updates to come soon. Much love to all of our readers.
Xoxo,
Maddy and Tim
Monday, July 8th, Day 39 (tim)
(we tied pretty much all o dat)
Having trouble typing this as the tips of most of my fingers are lacerated with tiny lemongrass cuts. Maddy and I spent the day tying bundles of lemongrass from our harvest almost a month ago - hard to believe it's been so long! The work was easy and boring, and takes forever. It'd be really fun (listening to your ipod, mind wandering, a bathroom like 20 steps away, shelter for when it rains right nearby), if we weren't getting bitten by fire ants the whole time (they have no shame when it comes to biting sensitive areas) and cut by those dumb, smelly, slightly-molding lemongrass stalks. AH WELL. Not our favorite job but has to be done and we're certainly doing it as fast as we can. Probably tied over half of what we've gathered so far.
(a photo which conveniently shows off maddy's ringworm AND her timeless beauty)
On Friday we hiked to town to get checked up (Maddy for ringworm, me for my finally-gone ear infections), then took the day easy after realizing how unbelievably tired we were from the past two days of cutting and carrying trees. Then on Saturday we went in to Roseau for another early-morning Market adventure, bought some medical stuff for Maddy and Nans and also new shoes for Maddy. Now both of us own plastic knock-off crocs! They're the only thing that seems to hold up in the face of humid heat and constant jungle wear and always-damp-ness! Yay!
(on the freshwater lake hike)
After shopping we took the transport to the head of the Freshwater Lake hike, saw more of this unreal island, and then hiked the over-three-hour hike back to 3 Rivers from Freshwater. It was exhausting but really, really fun. Sunday we spent recovering and doing some much-needed stuff on the internet (figuring out college stuff, etc). Tropical storm coming today and tomorrow, so it's just Maddy and I working on the project for a while. But soon the boys will be back and we will all begin again in earnest on the house, which is really coming along. Much love! Tim
Wind turbine is up in a temporary location by the solar house! Putting it up was mildly terrifying: our main lobbying tools were an extendable ladder, a piece of wood nailed to another piece of wood, some plastic coated wire, and good old-fashioned man power. Later, probably some time after we are gone, the turbine will be moved to a more permanent location on the upper property.
Friday July 5th, Day 36 (tim)
I’m a bit embarrassed that it’s been so long since there’s been anything here other than Project Project Project. Generally Maddy and I are both much better at writing often and a lot. Recently though, we’ve both been inordinately tired after work – we’ve become accustomed to waking up, working until 4, cooking dinner and cleaning ourselves up and washing dishes, doing maybe a project update or responding to an email or two, then collapsing with a book into our beds for early nights.
(Quiet moment making dinner in the kitchen) On my end, I’ve just now come off a 20-day streak of ear infection fun, which explains a bit my lower-than-usual energy levels. Also, though – this kind of work is not easy stuff! We’ve been giving you the bare essentials – the what and the when and the why – but I’d like to extrapolate on some of the stuff we’ve been doing. Much of what Maddy and I have been doing recently has been separate from Lincoln and the boys. This is because when it comes to the highly technical work of the actual building site – using the chainsaw to cut boards to exact lengths, ascending scaffolding to install a roof, mixing cement and laying it carefully in the right order with the correct number of rocks and the correct ratio of gravel – Maddy and I are much less prepared and experienced. We often just get in the way of what is really a two- or three-man job. But what Maddy and I are just as qualified to do is the simple act of going someplace and gathering materials… give us the tools and tell us how to use them, and we can venture off into the jungle and put in the hours needed.
(I was atop that ladder. It was terrifying)
It’s better for everyone involved – the project clips along faster, because the bright-eyed ignorant overzealous American kids can do unpopular grunt-work while the highly experienced strong Dominican folks do what they’re good at. And we’re still asking (too many) questions about the construction side of things – watching and learning about Lincoln’s side of things. So we remain highly involved in every step of this process. But this way we also get to learn about things we’d otherwise know nothing about, and we get to feel competent and useful while doing them. And boy, for us these shiny new tasks are often just as much fun as they are hard work! Gathering bamboo is grueling, but it was really satisfying to worked out an efficient 2-person system for cutting and cleaning. Cutting bamboo so that it falls in the right place is like a very large 3D puzzle – you have to think 40 feet above your head and 40 feet away on the ground, and then make cuts so that somehow this tall entangled woody stalk can fall exactly so and be dragged out to the clearing and cleaned. And when you fail, which is more often than not, you have to figure out what else to cut – this small tree? this other thing of bamboo? higher up on the same stalk? – and play a game I like to call Wrestle With The Bamboo And Mostly Lose And Sometimes Give Up Before You Win. Cutting down small-to-medium sized trees is also fun in its own way. Finding the right size and straightness and hardness of wood is something, it turns out, I am terrible at (which Maddy gets a kick out of – how the heck did you ever think this was the right tree to cut? she'd say, holding up a puny stick or hoisting up a veritable log). The actual act of wielding a machete is a serious skill, one requiring plenty of strength and accuracy and thought. Yesterday I finally figured out how to use my left hand with some efficiency, which nobody else in the world cares about but which for me will probably forever be one of my proudest moments. I felt like a very proud rooster for hours afterwards, so self-important and so silly. I actually dreamt last night that I won a medal for mastering the machete (to clarify: I have most definitely not mastered the machete - this was in dream only).
After you’ve cut and cleaned the trees, perhaps the most frustrating and yet fun part of collecting wood is trying to maneuver these 20-foot posts out of the dense jungle. I’ve come to hate low-hanging vines, as they’ve led to quite a few nasty cuts and bruises. Also I’m getting better at not cutting myself with the machete! So that's a plus! We’ve spent a lot of time doing Non-Construction Things – re-tying the grass bundles is another task we’ve spent some time doing, less fun but just as important, and you can listen to your iPod and take shelter when it rains, so it’s quite luxurious in its own way. But we’ve also helped out quite a bit with the actual construction site. There was a day when Maddy, Lincoln and I put up some of the vertical-support-posts (which now hold up the peak of the roof), and I helped Lincoln as he stood ten feet up in the air, balanced on one narrow piece of wood, holding an extremely heavy ten-foot post and nailing it into place. It was the single most terrifying thing I’ve ever done – and I was just on the ladder as support! The respect both Maddy and I feel for those men and the work they do and the competence with which they do it… it’s immense. But enough about work, if only for a moment.
(We spent a whole night playing around with my camera – when the power's out and the candles have burned down, you get a little creative with your pastimes) Maddy and I have also had some opportunities, on the weekend, to explore the island. We went to the open-air market early last Saturday and picked up a bounty of fresh produce, then spent two hours bouncing around Roseau looking for an extra snorkel mask (I brought one, Maddy did not), scurrying from one shop to another, following instructions from helpful locals. After trying what felt like every vendor in the entire town, we found swimming goggles and a spare snorkel and decided to try those. Then we hopped a bus to Scott’s Head (the southernmost tip of the island), hiked around the actual land formation of Scott’s Head, and ate market produce for lunch at the snorkeling beach. There we realized that we had all our stuff and no way to secure it against theft (which is especially common here in tourist spots), so we hid it behind some rocks and started snorkeling. The goggles, no surprise, were an absolute bust (they turned every color into a weird shade of blue and also made you see double), so we took turns watching our stuff and snorkeling. Maddy saw a pod of squid, I saw a frogfish, and we both had a really nice time. It’s so interesting, being sorta-tourists. We’re not just passing through, we’re living here for two months and are pretty familiar by now with local customs and habits and prices, but of course nobody knows that and we also aren’t familiar enough to always look like we know what we’re doing. And I mean… snorkeling at Scott’s Head on our day off after perusing the market was kinda like being a tourist for a day. But that strange difference – of caring about a place and doing something to try and help it out, which makes us much different from the average casual tourist – only throws the difference of our skin into more vivid reality. Walking around the bright and rowdy streets of Roseau, we were the only white-skinned humans for many blocks, and of course everyone treated us that way. In Grand Fond, the nearby town, it’s the same thing – we hiked up to it one night for adventure’s sake and were met with omnipresent stares and questions. Perhaps every person who looked at us “funny” was thinking simply “what nice people” – and certainly we’ve never been met with anything but welcoming smiles and kind words here – but nevertheless we felt very acutely like we were trespassing, like we could never belong. In the US, I like to think that everyone I meet is relatively race-blind. I certainly am, most of the time. I certainly see race, but after noting the color of someone's skin (and taking in the color of their hair and the color of their clothes and the color of their shoes and the color of the sky) I think nothing more about it. What Maddy and I have discussed here, at some length, is that in the US we're race blind because we're never treated differently for our skin color. We interact with anyone and are treated like people, not like white people. But whether or not we treat minorities differently, people who are marked physically as different probably are treated differently by some. It's a subtle shift in the way I view the world – I certainly will continue to understand that individuals are never well-understood using stereotypes. But recognizing that people do deal with race whether or not I treat them differently is an important lesson for me, and one that perhaps I had to experience myself before I could properly understand it. There's so much more to say, of course – this place and this project and this experience are so thick with things that make you think. Maddy and I have been reading a lot, and in The Volcano Lover by Susan Sontag there’s a quote: Living abroad facilitates treating life as a spectacle. It’s true: living abroad is experiencing somebody else’s Everyday Life as something Different and Exotic and Special. It’s something I’m going to try to do with my own Everyday Life when I get back – look at how interesting and fascinating it can be. But living abroad – there’s a richness that one experiences as an outsider looking in, it teaches you a lot. For now, though, I should take our homemade bread and baked Tania root out of the oven (we’re learning so much about Caribbean cooking here)! Much love to everyone reading! Tim
Friday July 5th, Day 36 (maddy)
Wowza. We’ve been in Dominica for a little over a month now and are finally establishing somewhat of a routine (which can be both good and bad). Everyday I wake up naturally between 6:30 and 7:30 a.m., have a breakfast of oatmeal, bread and cheese, or, on occasion, festival cookies (Tim is guilty as well hehe) and set about working between 9 and 9:30 a.m.
I often wake up before Tim and take the half hour or so of alone time to wash my clothes, take a bath in the river, or read over breakfast before diving into the day. More often than not, the work is tedious and all consuming, except for the days dedicated to more technical work (nailing the rafters, cutting wood with the chainsaw, installing the solar batteries) on which I happily assume the role of assistant, student, and documenter.
The truth is that Tim and I are the least technically skilled people here, and the work that we do, though very challenging at times, is fundamentally simple. We cut wood. We carry it. We cut grass. We tie it. The result, I find, is that we occasionally feel useless and frustrated. Lincoln and the boys are tremendously knowledgeable and competent people, not just in terms of technical skill, but also in terms of interpersonal intelligence, leadership, and countless other ways that I cannot possibly express. They are amazing people, and I admire their strength, tenacity, and perseverance in situations in which I admittedly would not have the faintest clue as to what to do or how to do it well (for example, see below: Lincoln single-handedly lifts a heavy, 10 ft. long post into vertical position while balancing on a narrow piece of wood 8 ft. off of the ground, all the while managing, in an unprecedented act of goodwill, to make Tim and I feel included.) I am as much a student here as I am a leader, and if I had to pick one 100% true thing to say about this project, it would be that it is a collaborative effort. We do what we can, we try to do it well, and we always strive to remember how lucky we are to be here in the first place.
(Lincoln and Tim being badass)
Still, nothing is going to stop me from dishing out the nitty-gritty details of our grunt work! For about two weeks now, when we are not helping the boys as best we can by fluttering back and forth with hammer, nails, and level, Tim and I have buried ourselves in the jungle and cut wood (also grass and bamboo). I quickly learned these two things: 1) Nature is not indifferent. Rocks and dirt, though ostensibly inanimate, transition quite readily from stagnant, aesthetically normative features of nature to tumultuous and decidedly vindictive avalanches. Vines and roots, on the other hand, are best conceived as obstinate squatters who have taken up residence in your workplace and refuse to allow you a moment’s peace. Navigating the wet tangle of the living jungle is a constant battle that will leave you looking like you’ve been throttled and dragged through the dirt by your ankles. 2) I am stronger than I think. For every frustrating moment spent untangling myself from a web of murderous vines, there has been an equally astonishing moment in which I have either a) brought down a small tree with no more than four quick whacks of my machete b) tossed one of the cut pieces of wood at what I deemed an appropriate velocity, only to have it soar 10-15 ft. past its intended destination. OR, c) pulled myself to safety after coming dangerously close to toppling off the edge of a steep hillside, left dangling by just my arms with a machete in hand (don’t worry, this has only happened twice!).
(One week ago at Scottshead. Tim and I went to the open air market and did a little bit of snorkeling. It was so nice to get away and spend some fun-times together. Tomorrow we hope to venture into the market again and potentially hike to Dominica's freshwater lake.)
While I have since adjusted to the daily battle with stubborn plant fixtures and unstable ground, I am quite certain that I will never accustom myself to the weight and steely power of a machete. Crouched in the jungle, sweaty, dirty, tired, and with every muscle in my body tensed and quivering, I can’t help both admiring and resenting the power I can channel through this glorified kitchen knife. In a small way, I am sad that any living thing whatsoever has to die for this project. Tim and I have taken the utmost care to ensure that we are not causing any serious damage, taking only what we need and changing locations periodically. Nevertheless, part of me rues every cut that I make, because the Annie Dillard/Barbara Kingsolver/Steve Irwin lover in me knows that every living thing around me is interconnected. Every sapling and rock and weed and vine that we uproot is also a home to birds and bugs and lizards and some whole host of invisible and equally important microscopic life. Fortunately, I do believe our building will more than make up for the costs nature has paid to build it. In the meantime, I am happy to put in the necessary work, so long as I don’t forget why I am here or slip into the mechanical work ethic that can be so typical in an age of mass production, impersonal industry, and ruthless efficiency.
My musings on the machete are subtly tied to another point of reflection, one that I hesitate to include on this blog, but which I think is a valid and influential part of my life here and everywhere. As we mentioned in our last blog post, our friend and classmate Andrew Pochter was killed during protests in Egypt last week. The details of his death remain unclear and sparse at best, and even if I knew more I don’t think I could begin to intimate the complex significance of his life and loss. More than anything, the last week has given me time to make peace with his passing on a personal level and to think and feel deeply the many sentiments that only the death of a loved one has the power to elicit. Who will ever know what about death makes us sad. Whether it was because Andrew was young, compassionate, intelligent, and loveable, I will never know. I’m sure it is a combination of all these things. For me, I feel the sadness of death is mostly the enduring sense of emptiness and realizing that a memory and a newspaper clipping aren’t much to hold on to. I know that Andrew cared deeply about the issues he was striving to understand, that he supported this project and all that it stands for, and that he will be dearly missed.
(Swanky hipster Tim cheesin' on a mid-morning walk to the town of Granfond. It was a beautiful day and gave our tired bodies about as much exercise as they could handle.)
Looking forward to another wild and wonderful month here. Much love to friends, family, and supporters everywhere.
Xoxo,
Maddy
personal updates to come very soon, but first: these past two days have been totally consumed by cutting and cleaning and carrying over 60 pieces of wood down the mountain. these pieces of wood will be laid horizontally against the rafters of the hut (the rafters are half-up now thanks to Lincoln and the boys!!!). it’s been easily the most strenuous task yet, but almost no rain and conveniently close to clean water. also now that we’ve moved into lime cottage (courtesy of jem, thank goodness for his generosity), we get showers immediately after. life is good. sorry we’ve been so stringent on posts recently! having too much fun / too tired all the time.
Wednesday July 3rd, Day 34 (project update)
We’re back online! After a week-long power-outage, we are back with many exciting updates. First though, we would like to take a moment of silence to honor our friend and classmate Andrew Pochter who was killed this week in Egypt where he was working as an intern during violent clashes between supporters and opponents of President Morsi. Andrew took part in the early development of this project and was an advocate for peace, love, and compassion. We are deeply saddened by his passing and send our condolences to his friends and family. We would also like to honor Lisa Swaim, whose support has been integral to the planning and commencement of this project. She is a member of the Center for Global Engagement at Kenyon. Since our last post, we have made a great deal of progress in the way of additional planning, construction, and implementation of the wind turbine. Last Thursday we finally collected the parts for our wind turbine and six solar/wind batteries in Roseau. Two of these batteries were funded by the generous donations on GoFundMe from friends, family, and supporters of Projects for Peace and 3 Rivers Eco Lodge!
(Waiting in the Tropical Shipping lounge. Lots of waiting and filling out forms.)
(Finally, we acquire the parts to the wind turbine!)
Over the course of the next few days, the solar house (the heart of renewable energy storage here at 3 Rivers Eco Lodge) was rewired with the new batteries and set up in preparation for the addition of the wind turbine. With the installation of the new batteries, 3 Rivers has more than tripled its energy storage capacity! Plus we now have internet again!
(The solar batteries installed in the solar panel. The grey box above the batteries (right) will connect the wind turbine to the batteries once they are installed) Work on the educational building has continued as planned, barred only slightly by a surplus of rainy weather and a few technical issues that have since been resolved. As of our last blog post, we have cut and installed a 30 ft. long center vertical support post (we actually had to do this twice, as the first post was determined too short to provide adequate support), installed two parallel support posts on either sides of the top frame (a risky and admittedly harrowing task for which we owe Lincoln infinite credit for having orchestrated it), and begun drying and tying the lemongrass into bundles that will comprise our roof.
(As the most experienced member of the group, Lincoln was also the most competent in scary and increasingly frequent moments like this one. Here Lincoln attaches string to the top of a support post for measurement purposes)
After several talks with Jem, Nans, and the boys, we have concluded that our building is a candidate for a traditional clay floor, created by mixing clay from the jungle, grass, and water. If this type of floor is, as we think, indeed possible, it will mean that our building is nearly 100% sustainable! The only non-natural elements remaining will be concrete and nails necessary for stability and support. We are very encouraged by the progress of the last week and feeling confident about the work left to accomplish. From here on out, the plan is as follows: harvest grass ties (wood to which we will attach the lemon grass bundles), harvest and tie additional lemongrass, cut bamboo into handrails, install top beam, install rafters, finish leveling the floor with gravel, attach the grass ties, attach the grass bundles, install the bamboo handrails, and mix and install the clay floor.
While some aspects of the project – installation of the wind turbine, finishing touches on the building, and installation/delivery of the signs – are not likely to happen while on island, there’s a good chance that we’ll leave without a few other aspects quite finished – perhaps the roof will take longer than expected, or the clay floor will have to be finalized after we’ve departed.
(Still finding ways to balance the hard work with relaxation. As you can see, we are both growing our beards out)
This is ok! And why we chose 3 Rivers as the location for the project – an able-bodied crew is happy and ready to tie up any loose ends, and even more importantly, after that 3 Rivers will begin hosting school groups and using the structure and educational materials for sustainability education. Looking forward to more exciting updates. Much love to all of our readers, Maddy and Tim
Wednesday June 26th, Day 27 (project update)
Greetings!
Today is day 3 of what I would call the most thoroughly exhausting physical labor we have participated in thus far. Our arms feel like jell-o, our backs are strained, our arms and legs look like bruised fruit, and our shoulders are sunburnt and oh-so tender. It is the kind of work that takes every ounce of your energy, your muscle, and even your dignity (both of us have, at one point or another, in the heat of exhaustion and frustration, fallen prostrate amidst mud and bamboo, only to rise up and give each other that 'I'm really lucky I didn't just hurt myself' look).
Monday: We dedicated the first of the week to cutting as much bamboo as humanly possible. Mary, our amazing friend and neighbor, has graciously allowed us to harvest from a large bamboo tree in her backyard. She has even come out to help us cut and clean!
A quick note about bamboo: though it appears beautiful and unassuming (an untouched wealth of leafy green goodness!), it is unabashedly dangerous. While standing, it provides a recluse for snakes (pythons love to laze amidst its tangled trunk) and my eternal foe, the red ant, runs rampant on nearly every stalk. It's tangled limbs, meanwhile, present a puzzle that only careful strategy can solve, otherwise resulting in a mess of leafy branches ensnared in vines and on the tops of nearby trees. When cut, its edges are sharp as razors and its fibrous inner material can slice deep lacerations in hands and arms.
Luckily, Tim and I worked out a system for quick and efficient harvesting. While Tim selected, cut, and felled stalks at the base of the bamboo tree (an extremely difficult, dangerous, and exhausting task), I cleaned each stalk by cutting off the leafy head, trimming any lower branches, and disposing of the branches (each stalk harvested resulted in about 8X its volume in leaves and branches).
(Tim cutting the stalks at the base of the bamboo tree with his machete, careful to avoid touching the razor sharp edges or the many fire ants scampering up and down the tree)
(Maddy trimming off the head of a bamboo stalk which cannot be used for the handrails)
To show how much more efficient our system was, here are before and after pics:
(Day 1 of bamboo cutting without our super efficient system)
(Day 2 with our tag-team effort and the help of the lovely Mary, on left)
Meanwhile, while we cut bamboo, Lincoln and the boys finished installing the remaining foundational posts and mixed and poured the first layer of concrete.
(View of the structure with all posts installed and first layer of concrete poured)
(As we pour more concrete we will use a temporary frame to keep it aligned. The frame will then be removed as the concrete dries in place.)
(The far end of the building site is considerably lower than the side nearest the bar, meaning we will have to level it using gravel and concrete. The first line, shown above in green, will be filled with gravel, while about 6 inches of concrete will be poured on top, meeting the second, pink line of string.)
Tuesday: Tuesday was dedicated to harvesting 20 20 ft. long rafters in the jungle. At first, Tim and I were amazed at how quickly we felled the necessary hardwood trees with the help of our machetes and Lincoln, our superhero-esque bossman who cut and carried about twice as many rafters as us. However, cleaning and carrying (or should I say dragging) the cut wood out of the jungle was an entirely different matter and proved extremely frustrating.
(We cut the wood using only our machetes and gloves for protection. Lincoln, who is very knowledgeable, specified which trees were hardwood and thus stronger and more durable for use as rafters)
After an hour or three (we completely lost track) of maneuvering the heavy, 20 ft. long pieces of hardwood through the muck of the rainy, muddy, vine-strewn jungle, we finally set about carrying them to the construction site. Once again, Tim and I had to contend with our own limitations, as we both tried and found ourselves in too much pain to carry a rafter individually. Exhausted and admittedly daunted at the prospect of carrying 20 heavy posts out of the jungle one by one, we strategized by banding together and carrying two rafters, one on each shoulder. Unfortunately, we don't have many pictures of this, as it was pouring rain the entire time we were working!
Wednesday: today is dedicated to carrying most of the remaining rafters down and installing the top frame of our educational building.
(Tim and Lincoln put up part of the top frame while I shamefully scurry back and forth taking pictures and updating this blog :) )
(Lincoln being a silly mcbilly)
So computer is dying and there is much to do, so that is all for now! Plan for the next few days is to sooth our aching bodies with large quantities of aloe vera, finish installing the top frame, and hopefully make a trip into Roseau to restock on supplies.
All the best,
Tim and Maddy
These past few days of hard work have yielded immense progress in the way of construction. While all of our work thus far, a matter of accumulating all of the necessary materials from the local beaches and jungles around the construction site, has been building up to this, it is indescribably rewarding and exciting to see the frame of our building rise from the dust (not of course, without the help of an incredibly dedicated staff of 3 Rivers Eco Lodge employees and volunteers).
Thursday and Friday were dedicated to putting up the remainder of the foundational posts, mixing concrete, stabilizing the posts with concrete, and harvesting bamboo for use as handrails in the finished hut.
This week, we will likely divide ourselves to tackle different tasks. Some of us will continue to work on the educational hut, placing the posts and pouring the concrete, as well as harvesting bamboo for the handrails. Additionally, we will begin tying the grass we have collected for later use as roof coverage. Most excitingly of all, this week we begin constructing our wind turbine! The parts have arrived in Dominica and the next few weeks will be a complex process of moving the materials to the construction site, improvising a ladder to access the upper reaches of the tree to which we will attach it, and implementing a series of pulleys to hoist the materials up into the tree and mount them. We have our work cut out for us and are looking forward to the variety that this week is sure to bring!
