What’s de Word with Nicki

Adventure Time

I think it’s in a Drake song I heard the line, “On a mission your biggest enemy is idle time.” But sometimes spending time idly makes for the best eye openers, don’t you think?

I’m going to stray away from my usual step by step advisory to share an experience with you that I just couldn’t keep to myself.

Last week, 2 friends and I decided to venture out to the beach on an adventure. I chose to say an adventure because in adulthood that’s what these unplanned, unusual outings are to be called. So we packed our bags and decided that we were going to hop a bus and find our way to the north east coast to Red Rock.  I had been there once before and so had 1 of my friends. The other, who’s not from here, wanted to ensure that it was checked off her ‘Dominica to do list’. Entirely on Dominica time, and dependent on the bus system, we set out on our mini adventure.

No, we didn’t have to fight off pirates, neither did we end up in another time realm or any other fantasy adventure plots you have racing through your mind right now. It was deemed an adventure because we chose to do something out of our usual path on a sunny Wednesday in September.

The bus rides, I found most entertaining as villagers who knew each other would have the most inappropriate, yet weirdly relatable conversations on the public bus, while we bumped shoulder to sweaty shoulder through the winding roads of the Nature Isle. I must admit that secretly I was seeking inspiration for my next piece for this column, and so was in super analytic mode for every event that was to occur during the day. Anyway, the journey began with a bus to Portsmouth. After the 45 minute drive in utter silence (except for the Taurus Riley spilling from the stereo) we got off at the Portsmouth bus stop and started out the day with some nourishment; bakes and ham from a wide snacket on the opposite side of the road. The scorching morning sun hovered above us while the bustle of bus drivers amidst locals formed a conflicting chaos in its ominous silence. I usually don’t get to observe Portsmouth during a weekday. It’s usually at holidays or on the weekend and I’m almost always at a beach. So this short walk into shops and encounters with villagers was new, quite inspiring and very entertaining. A few people stopped and asked where we were from, (I guess we looked out of place given the time, or maybe it was because one of us was white) and had random conversations about our heritage, family lineage and the usual Dominican banter.

Soon we were off to Calibishie. A chance journey via bus ride, ended with a slight walk through the village guided by a complete stranger whom for some reason we felt compelled to trust. We finally got to our destination; Red Rock Haven. A cove of beach cuddled by glowing red rock. The autumn ambiance of the beach immediately soothed my weary soul and the day was off to a great start. We climbed a rock, took a dip, talked to some more strangers, took some pics and played with stray dogs. Nothing gets better than this. Soon we decided to get out because the place looked a bit sketchy as the beach bar was abandoned. We didn’t have to be reminded that we were 3 helpless girls on a beach 1/2 way across the island from where we live. So we played it safe and started to move.

It was back to Portsmouth from there to meet some more friends, so off we went, trotting beneath the midday sun. Luck was with us as we immediately got a bus, occupied only by a school girl and her baby brother who was now entirely knocked out on her lap and drooling on her school skirt. There seemed to be no end to her ‘stupesing’ and head shaking.

After flying past Bense, our to-be -met companions called and told us to stop at Bense so we stopped the bus at a small shop round the corner oh wherever and bought some more bakes in a bar. This time it was dry so I had to compromise with a cube cheese. You should try one sometime.

Soon the pulse of a vibrating baseline alerted us of our friends’ arrival and we were on board the jeep in seconds, welcomed by old school Capelton from the speakers, a cooler of ice cold drinks from the back and great company from inside. We were now off to Chaudiere Pool and it was at that moment, for a long time, that my mind ignored realistic thought and was consumed by the music and the moment. It was then, that I realised that whatever this experience was, it must be shared.

A long drive upon dirt road, lined by mulch and occasional gardens, upon a ridge, followed by a short walk brought us to our destination. Four pools placed in steps above each other, stemming from a wide smooth river, encased in green trees and covered with blue sky was Chaudiere Pool. A jump, or slither for some, in the refreshing water mellowed us out from our nomadic explorations,  as nature healed our young and restless souls.

I could lie on my back in the flowing water and stare up at the clouds until the moon conquered the sun for all I cared. I was definitely in my zone and so was everyone else, because for that short time, everyone was quiet, willed by the power of Dominica’s beauty to meditate and give thanks for our small blessings.

But all good things come to an end and so we were off again. On the ride home, something amazing happened in my head. While driving back through the dirt road, which I now realised was surrounded on both sides by mountain range I caught a glimpse of Vielle Case; a small patch of dotted lights, illuminating the twilight, surrounded by a vast expanse of uncivilised green. The towering mountains took over my being sending me into a trance and I was forced to have one of my usual episodes where I completely black out from reality and enter into the ever vibrant imaginative world of Nickisha. The music blasting from our jeep and all other reality began to crumble away and this picture ahead of me took over my thoughts.

Mountains. So solid, so stable, so tall, so menacing, so Dominica. For a moment, their greatness made me realise how small I was .The thought humbled all aggressive thoughts that I’d had earlier on that week on how to deal with the struggles of young adulthood. Their presence reassured me of the beauty that remains in this corrupted world and gave me faith in life once more. Oh I also had a life changing epiphany which I can’t share with you. But that’s just to show you how powerful those damned mountains were.  Who would’ve thought? People from Bense have a lovely view and I envy them deeply.

Anyway, I snapped back to reality at the jerking halt of the speedy jeep and took a few seconds to re-establish my location and purpose. The rest of the adventure involved eating at De Champs in Portsmouth and some more driving until we settled peacefully in the Roseau Valley to a decreasing but bright white moon. There were some other things that happened along the way but I won’t bore you with all the personal details.

So what’s the moral of this story anyway? I’m getting to that. Be patient. Being a teacher taught me that the greatest school is life and that there’s something to learn from everything. What did this adventure teach me then? I learned that sometimes we all need to get out of the regular drudgery that we call our life which can force us to hate it and blind us from the beauty of this place we call home. Sometimes we need to be reminded that there is more to life than our own living. Sometimes we need to visit random places and meet new people. They don’t need to be accomplished, they don’t need to be beautiful, they just need to be people. People who can show us that getting a glass of water from a stranger on a scorching day after a salt water bath in the Middle of a steep hill is one of the best gifts a person can give you.

Sometimes we need to realise that life is more about joy than success. But most of all, sometimes we need to be reminded that there is more out there than what we know or have been taught. There are new things to be done; there are new people to meet. And sometimes, with these random experiences come epiphanies; small instances of pure peace with self, revelation and increased spirituality. Sometimes, we need to put an end to the worry even if it’s just for 2 hours and just love our home again, for she is equipped with enough wonders to put your largest trouble at ease.

I, personally, will never stop loving Dominica. Though she continues to batter and seemingly restrict me, I love her. She’s my muse; that monkey I’ll never get off my back and I find myself unhealthily addicted to the power of her beauty and spirit. So my one piece of advice to you in this week’s column is to go on an adventure in Dominica. Don’t be worried about the money, do it small. Explore, feel, learn. Be dependent on others, on the weather, but not on time for a change and you can never tell, this unexpected journey might just change your life, like it did mine.

Hakunamata

Nicki