The Mountains of Life

"Come to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods. Here grow the wallflower and the violet. The squirrel will come and sit upon your knee, the logcock will wake you in the morning. Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill. Of all the upness accessible to mortals, there is no upness comparable to the mountains."

- John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir, (1938), page 235.

Dominica was full of that "upness" that John Muir references in the quote above. The view of the volcanic mountains and the contrasting far sea horizon gave a glorious upness to the often difficult day to day in which we lived. (And our difficulties rarely compared to the Dominican's day to day.) The university gave us a cushion in many ways but the mountains too gave us a cushion, one that was harder to name, harder to recognize, and one that I miss dearly now. 

I stopped blogging in our last semester there. I think the idea of wrapping up a life somewhere that took real grit to settle into was difficult to comprehend. I had just figured it out and now we leave? Packing, crossing things off the Dominica bucket list, and saying goodbyes certainly didn't lend itself to a quiet stillness in which to reflect and write. Its been over a month now and I think those reflections are starting to show themselves. And the mountains are a recurring vision. 

In Dominica I was an outsider. I wasn't from there, I didn't recognize the foods, I didn't know their slang, I didn't share their history. There were figurative mountains I had to surmount in understanding how to cook there, how to buy food, how to get from place to place, how to communicate, how to be a foreigner in my day to day reality, how to live. Plus, in the med school community, I was in a sea of other outsiders struggling to do the same thing from their own experiences. 

I think some of it was just a little too much to wrap our minds around and so many of us climbed literal mountains, hardships we could see, name, climb, finish, and succeed. I think we needed those mountains, those concrete challenges and successes, in order to mentally surmount the day to day. Each mountain, each swim and run and yoga session, each physical venture pulled us out of ourselves, pulled us out of the insatiable desire to explain what was, at times, inexplicable. 

Being back stateside is full of delights (phone calls, blankets, baby spinach, affordable apples, potable water, book stores...) and many things are comfortable again, recognizable again. But after the shock of these renewed delights passed, the figurative mountains of the day to day returned. It is not foreignness but life itself that offers us daily mountains to vanquish. We exhaust ourselves trying to explain, reason, and think them away. In that exhaustion, I think of John Muir's idea of repose and upness; the woods, the sea, the mountains, the plains given as places of rest. 

Andy and I still live by the sea now but without any mountains for miles. Some days I run up to the ocean to look out on the waves and the horizon and run home again, once again pulled out of myself, slightly accepting the inexplicable and taking a deep breath in the reality that we are given work to do and it is ours to do it. 

Thin Crust

This weekend Andy and I had a rare occurrence: a break in the middle of a semester. We took full advantage and went away to the south of Dominica. Driving away in the little matchbox car we rented began a feeling of freedom we hadn't had in a long while. As we sped along the curvy coast of Dominica, our shoulders relaxed, our conversation deepened, and our faces lightened. The stress of accelerated medical school in a foreign and developing country during our first months of marriage would consume us if we let it.

This semester in particular has been a doozy. On my part, after a few blind spots, some failures, some not so great surprises, and loneliness, I had started to let it consume me. It takes real proactivity, honesty, and community to pull up and out of a pit like that. And not just that once. Life takes continued proactivity, honesty, and community. The last few weeks felt like swimming through mud. I had just started swimming though water again when this weekend came, like a current going my direction.

On Saturday evening Andy and I ventured out into the darkness with foggy directions and an appetite. We made our way to the best meal we've had in Dominica to date. Sunshine Cottages and Restaurant is owned and operated by a delightful couple, Sabina and Marco. Their friendly hospitality, the space's warmth, and the simple, genuine food completed that novel feeling of freedom that started with the drive. Sabina's smile made me feel like I was eating at an old friends' home. Marco, in his Crocodile Dundee hat, described building the cottages, making the brick oven, and mentioned that his tomato sauce was a secret family recipe over 150 years old. Sabina told us about using locally sourced ingredients for all of their pizza and dishes. They mentioned farmers, markets, and food grown right on their own land. The vegetarian thin crust pizzas burst with flavor and depth. Italy met Dominica and the result blew us away in a beautifully simple and understated way.

While Sabina and Marco will close for the too hot summer here, we plan to venture their way again when they reopen in September. And hopefully again before we leave in December. The weekend was completed by a stay at Fort Young hotel and snorkeling in the bubbles at Champagne reef. I don't think we'll ever forget this gift.

Amazing pizza. Food done well and shared can restore sanity, simplicity, and contentedness. What a gift.

View of Dominica, the Caribbean, and the Atlantic from Scott's Head. 

Dominica: The Fountain of Youth ... Or at least a long life.

"How do you eat it?"

"You just eat it. First you cut it open, then you suck it out."

Ask a Dominica how to eat some local fruit and thats the answer. Most Dominicans are wonderful about telling you how to eat something. Because they want to sell it to you, yes, but also because they are proud of their land. They work hard to help it produce all of these wonderful juicy, and many times strange, edible things.

I took a taxi from the airport last week, a long snake-like drive across the northern tip of the country, and my taxi driver turned out to be quite talkative. This was not a surprise to me since many of the Dominicans are very talkative, especially if you ask them about Dominica, politics, food, or how to do something. My taxi driver's name was Bennet but everyone calls him Ben.

After a bit I asked him why there are so many centenarians here. He proudly told me of his friends and relatives' ages who recently died - 99, 101, 100. And he declared, "It is a secret of Dominica and I will only tell you when you move here." He cracked himself up at that!

But then he got serious and began to talk about the food and drink of Dominica. They have so many beautiful fruits and veggies, so much fish and natural springs of water, he said, and this is why people live so long. The chickens that run around are the best chickens you can eat. They grow up naturally. He said how strange it is to see a chicken ready to eat in just weeks of being a chick; how strange it is that little girls are getting their periods and developing at such early ages; that kids don't eat the fruit off the trees in their back yard for a school snack but instead have Cheetos. "What are those??" he asked, and added, "Thats not natural." Ben lamented that Dominica is soon going to lose these centenarians because of the unnatural processed foods coming in. He went to the grocery store the other day and his friend bought cherries from Thailand even though he has a cherry tree in his own yard. "It just doesn't seem natural."

Food for thought....


And with that, here are some of my recent Dominican edible findings...

(if you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen some of these already)

A Dominican Apricot 

Not my favorite... 

One of the many "provisions" here on Dominica. This root veggie is called a Dasheen. It tastes like a sweeter, more condensed version of a potato. 

A Bottle Gourd at the market in Roseau. Never found the need one... at least not yet. 

One of the many pumpkins here... I love pumpkin now! Its not just a thanksgiving sweet food. We eat it a lot and its super good for you. 

Hand picked mango and guava from the local trees. "Tree to Face" food. 

Plum Rose Apple 

The Cashew and Cashew Apple. The nut must be roasted and cracked open. Some part of this is poisonous. The cashew apple was ... flesh like and bitter. I might try another. Then again maybe not. 

The Dominican "Yam" ... although it tastes nothing like our yams. 

 

 It comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes.... 

The Dominican Cherry. They are sour but sweet and have a slightly crunchier flesh than the cherries I'm used to. I love them!

Each cherry has 3 pits in it. Needless to say, it took a while to take all of the pits out to make juice. 

Ready to strain and drink! 

Preparation for making Cacao Tea!
(See sjdalessandro on Instagram for more info)

mmmm.......

 The Christophine or Chayote. Can be eaten raw or cooked. Its crispy and mild. 

Paradise? Bloom Where you are Planted

I heard from my family today. It snowed again. And its almost April. And they live in Virginia. That is not supposed to happen. Today's Facebook and Instagram feeds from my East Coast friends were filled with shock, complaints, and witty remarks about snow, cold, weathermen and groundhogs. Everyone is dying for sun, for spring to come, for green grass and flowers, for change. And I get a lot of comments about living in paradise during these times. "If only I could be where she is," people think... 

But wait. Isn't there a saying about this? The grass is always greener on the other side... But is it really? 

I took picture this near the beach where they filmed Pirates of the Caribbean! 

Lets talk about here. It is wet. Let me tell you, the rainforest, the tropics, the islands... it is really wet. Not like Scotland or Ireland; foggy and raining, grey and poetic. Not like monsoon-season in India; everything washed away or drenched and then the parched dirt cracks in the heat a few weeks later. Here on Dominica, at least so far (January to April), its more like ... a broken sprinkler system. 

When we first arrived the rain would come in droves, sometimes in a cloud, sometimes seemingly raining from the sun itself. A few minutes later the sun would shine and things were nicely moistened. Except that I was still drenched or just emerging from my protective overhang or constantly carrying my raincoat, even on the sunniest of days. Until recently this on and off confusion was the trend and it was simultaneously pleasant and a bit frustrating. 

But summer is coming. And we can feel the threat. Its a bit like a lighted match is getting a tad too close to my fingers. The sun's heat is shockingly strong at times. I hear its only going to get worse. While the broken sprinkler system seems to be mostly off, the cool winds still make the days bearable for now. But soon the sun's flame will burn close all day and the humidity will drown us all. I hear that the wetness that once was outside will be your own sweat constantly streaming. The sea is like bathwater and the once cold showers are just more wetness washing over you. No one pays for air-conditioning (especially as you can watch your electricity meter go down) and the nights bring little relief. Sunscreen is your constant companion and, even with the incredible amount of walking we do, I'll cross the street multiple times just to escape the sun. 

Hearing about the snow, more and more snow, makes me yearn for some. I missed an epic year of snow forts and cross country skiing. I missed fires and hot soup and being snowed in. I missed the silence that only falling snow can bring and the dirty slush that looks like a 7-11 Root Beer Slurpee all over the roads. And now I will miss the change of seasons back home, from snow to spring. Its was hot when we got here, pleasant mostly but warm and it will stay hot and get hotter. The sun will shine and then shine some more. I do love it. But there will be little change in the season. Is it better here? Or is it better where you are? Yes ... if the grass is always greener. 

But its not. It takes effort and conscious choice to be content and grateful where you are. Choose gratitude not paradise. I have to tell myself that everyday and have people who will remind me too. 

Lessons from the Island: A Guest Blogger

Today's post is a guest post from another spouse who just arrived here in January, like me. I loved what he had to say and asked if I could share it with you. And without further ado, David McElprang, ladies and gentlemen: 

"So, today pretty much marks my 2 month point of living in Dominica. It also happens to be 1 month from when I fly out to go back to Atlanta for a short break. A few things I've come to realize while here that I feel deserve sharing with others: 

1) everyday spent snorkeling or hiking, is a good day. This island has so much beauty to share, but you have to be willing to go find it. The instances of true beauty finding you while sitting on your porch or hanging out at a bar/restaurant are far less common than when you go actively looking for them. I guess this could be said about most things in life… 

2) just because you can, doesn’t mean you should… this covers so many facets of life on the island, I won’t bother to elaborate, but just think of a situation this could possibly apply to, & it probably does.

3) when the clinic has free de-wormer, just take it… don’t ask questions, just take it. 

4) when you’re spear fishing & you see a large fish that you know would be a good fish to eat, don’t just shoot it in the hope that you will catch it; think logically about the size of the fish & how far out it can drag you before it gets tired enough for you to kill it… don’t ask, lesson learned the hard way.

5) no matter how bad you think your life is, I can personally show you proof that your life is fantastic compared to what some of the locals here live with every day, so quit being a freaking drama queen & appreciate what you have!!! All in all, life in paradise is not as perfect as anyone would like to think it is. You learn to do without a lot of the things you used to just take for granted. You also learn that you can truly do without a lot of the things you used to think were necessary. 

But most importantly, you come to realize that there are so many different people in this world that have such varied pasts & life experiences, that you need to be open to new friends, opportunities, & experiences without our preconceived notions."

The Nature Island Challenge!

http://www.gofundme.com/7k65rs

There are four of us. All women. All Americans. And we are the only Americans and only women who are competing in the Nature Island Challenge: a four day adventure race on the island of Dominica in the West Indies! 

Team Captain: Sarah (Coffin) D'Alessandro 
Teammates: Jen Manly, Maddie Pletta, and Tara Jorski 
[Subs: Meche French and Charles Manly. These two incredible teammates are willing to be subs in the event of an injury.]



We need raise $1500 USD for this competition. And we are stoked that anything beyond the $1500 will be given to a local Dominican charity. Thank you so much for your support, encouragement, and cheers! 

THE RACE: This race covers over 50 miles along the Waitikibuli National Trail. Everyday includes 10 - 15 miles of trails, cultural challenges (last year they had to relocate a cow and make cocoa tea), and a major team challenge that may include diving, paddling, relay racing, or any other crazy thing they come up with. We have to be ready for anything. 

Our training includes wet hikes in the tropical rainforest, running epic hills, swimming in the Caribbean ocean, rowing machines, paddle boards, kayaks, bikes, and various other sweat inducing, stamina testing, morale trying, and muscle pumping activities. 

This race, however, isn't just about the physical. The Nature Island Challnege is about Dominican culture, about learning, thinking, and coming alongside the local life. We, as a team, get to learn about this tiny little island, rich in resources, stories, and cultural histories, and share the wonder of those things with the world. The event, April 7th through the 11th, will be televised and all over social media (FB, IG, and Twitter). Follow our story and the story of Dominica! 

Social Media?Sarah: sjdalessandro on IG; www.TheStudyandTheStudio.com
Jen: jennifermanly
Maddie: 
Tara: montarmoments
Meche: fitness_traveler

Heartfelt Updates from The Study and The Studio

"The Study" Update: Just Keep Swimming... 

Medical school in the Caribbean feels like an island on an island. 

My fingers are increasing adept at describing the anatomy and physiology that fuel human life.  Biochemical pathways for cellular energy, protein synthesis, and deficits that lead to disease are an ever-growing scaffolding in my mind. 

My fingers are increasing inept at finding the words to describe what fuels my drive to study for the elusive patient I will serve years down the road.  The daily grind of rise, shine, and study actually leaves little time for cultivating a day to day determination for the all-encompassing endeavor of medical school.  

Fortunately, the years of anticipating, dreaming, and waiting for a chance to enter medical school entrenched a zealously that helps me treat every day like game day even as our schedule makes every day seem more like Monday.

Some days I maintain a hustle just so that my mind does not deflate from defeat.  This is training season.  Board exams will be here before I know it and on that day of mental reckoning I want to step into that test center in full confidence that my preparation involved ever ounce of determination I could muster.  Even more so, on that day with my first patient I want to serve them with my full strength cultivated by a history of preparation and hard work.  

I am thankful to have a partner sharing this journey with me.  I am grateful to be known and at times reminded of who I am beyond a study robot.  That’s enough left brain exercise for now, back to the study…

"The Studio" Update: Re-rooting and Patience 

Something interesting is happening. I wasn't quite sure what it was until recently. After a few weeks, a few long walks up steep hills, and a few conversations with wise people, I think I'm getting a glimpse. 

I've been quietly frustrated with my seeming abundance of time and corresponding lack of production, inspiration, and energy when it comes to making things. "So much time and space and new resources: What is wrong with me?"... is the mantra subtly threading through my everyday. It is a mantra that can creep in for all of us in different ways. We have certain expectations of ourselves and of situations. Then, in the situation, we wait to see those expectations filled rather than what the actual experience brings. We build a social construct in our mind that becomes a faux-Truth even before the experience can produce the actual reality. 

Beginning in December of last year, I was uprooted and replanted. I graduated from a Masters program, welcomed my fiancé back from 4 months apart, got married, turned 30, and moved to an island. When I got here 2 months ago, it was as though I put my hands on my hips and stood there watching, waiting, expecting to see fruit bloom as soon as my feet hit the ground. Well, where was the fruit?! I'm adventurous, creative, and now I've got time. What is wrong with me? Stupid tree. It doesn't work anymore. Great, now I'm on an island with so much time and I'm worthless. Am I drowning or acclimating? Acclimating, obviously, right? RIGHT? Get on with it!

My lack of patience astounds me. My wise sister said maybe I should recognize mini-wins each day (like the day I figured out how to change the propane tank on our stove and carried the 50lb. thing all the way home just to prove something to myself). Maybe I shouldn't try to be producing creativity in the midst of figuring out the basics of living, of surviving (like how not to get run over while crossing the street or crossing in front of an angry donkey). The daily hardships of this place are real but hardly seem so to outsiders since my pictures mainly exude the beauty of this Nature Island. How do I explain things? How do I communicate (an act of expressing something inside of me) through my artwork that which I haven't yet ingested? 

Like any adjustment (losing a loved one, moving, getting married, new job, new kid...), patience is key and expectations can kill the possible joys in your new reality. I am grateful for a partner who shows me this patience and one who can see my fears and emotions I try to hide oh so well. 

Nonhuman Neighbors

The weekly sightings of animals give a certain personality to where you live and even to how you see the world. Just their look, their way of moving and living, forms your impression of reality. Especially since they function according to the environment... paying attention to them can show you a lot about where you live.

Back home in Virginia I saw squirrels (my sister swears she sees one every day), pigeons, small bats at night, crows, little fluffy chickadees, dogs on leashes, and the occasional stray cat, cardinal or chipmunk on a weekly basis. Sometimes I would be excited to see a red headed woodpecker, a fox, or a skunk and going into more rural areas, I could catch sight of a deer, a groundhog, maybe even a black bear. But I was used to seeing these. And they informed my view of the world and how it looks, how it interacts, how it is... fur for cold weather, certain muted and almost colonial colors for blending into the Virginia surroundings, certain sounds I was used to...

The people here on Dominica are used to seeing all of the animals here. They pass them by without much thought. Their daily interactions with these animals have informed the way they view the world and how it looks, how it interacts, how it is. I can't imagine being used to some of these things (Oh, good morning Mr. Cow randomly on my road) and yet this is the Dominicans' reality. This is the way they understand the world working. With huge stinging centipedes, stray dogs, colorful destructive caterpillars, dinosaur looking lizards, parrots, and loads of fishes and turtles and pelicans...

This is reality too? This is the way the world works too? Yup. Everyday... everyday. But see, thats what travel does for you (or reading, if you don't have the money to travel.)! The world doesn't just operate in our little home bubble base.

What do you see everyday? How does it inform the way you see the world?

I've not been able to capture the pale gecko that lives in our bedroom or the one that lives on the screen by our stairs... the little black ant requires a blog post all its own since it tends to pervade all of life here (there is one crawling on my computer screen right now)... I've not seen a parrot yet... I know I have a lot of new friends yet to meet but until then, here are some of my neighbors I see:

Spot the little pigeon dove thing-a-ma-bird? 

So... whatcha doin there Mr. Cow? Just found a spot and stickin to it?

Almost ran into this cow while I was walking... 

I love this guy. Fabulous velvet coat, right?

I wonder if they get tired of being so alert?

What extravagantly fabulous worm life did this guy live? ... probably much more colorful. 

Ok, this is a little morbid since its just some crab's pincer but look how beautiful! Crabs are EVERYWHERE. Even up the hill from me (we live a few minutes from the beach) there is a little crab that crawls into a hole when I walk passed.

Staying with the dead-theme, this is a WHALE BONE. Yup.
You may recognize the picture from my beach tour... 

This crab should win an award posthumously.

"Just perching on the most awkward precipice I can find... See how Bob is envious... I got this."

He wants to blend in but his flamboyant side just can't be contained. 

A large red starfish. Thats a thing? Yup, and starfruit too.
Lots of stars and rainbows here. Its like a Lisa Frank pencil case.

Close up of the starfish.  

This goat lives up the hill from us. He cries like a baby human and its rather disturbing.
Sometimes I think, "Why isn't that person nursing their baby?!" And then I remember its a goat....
Then I wonder, "Why isn't that person nursing their goat?" GOSH. 

Tiny shrimps washed up and coated the shore line in the shape of waves the other morning... 

Seagulls. Ok, they are everywhere...