Dirtfish and Alien Snot Placentae

It's 6 in the evening, and I've been awake for 13 hours - today has been one of the longest in recent memory. In Portsmouth (the city in which I now live), there is a weekly farmer's/gatherer's market, some say beginning on Friday night, but definitely ending by around 8am Saturday morning. I've been told to get there incredibly early, but one of our security guards told me that it would be alright to show up before 8 - afterwards, all of the good fruits and veggies would be gone. So this morning, Nicole and I got up at 5am, and decided to walk the mile or so into Portsmouth. I was excited to get going; the few-hour night I'd had wasn't that bad. After stopping by Ross to fill up our water bottles, we headed down the twisty road to Market. About 4 or 5 busses/vans (they're all van sized busses here on Dominica) stopped to ask us if we were headed to market, and if we wanted a ride - but we're troopers; fearless, intrepid explorers - we had our minds set to walk that whole mile and a half. We had to ask directions, but eventually made it. One peddler was right when he said it was all organic; some of the produce looked like they'd just scooped it out of the ground. The prices were absolutely amazing - I've already explained the $USD/$EC exchange rate, yet I was still surprised to walk out with 20 lbs of fruit at only a $15EC price tag - five American dollars. I picked up a bag of tomatoes, some grapefruits as big as my head, starfruit, and passion fruit, while Nicole picked up some carrots, green beans, Valencia oranges, sorrel, and a shell bracelet. Satisfied with our conquests, we wended our way home, looking forward to a fruit and Trinidadian coffee-filled breakfast on her balcony (because mine doesn't have a table) overlooking the Caribbean Sea (tough times - I know you understand). So we dig into the fruit, and here I must digress quite a ways in order to better explain our.....surprise. Before mahi-mahi had that name, it was called dolphin fish - and sales in restaurants fell flat upon customer's unwillingness to chew on Flipper. So, they changed the name. Rapeseed Oil was changed to Canola Oil, because, once again, the name made it undesirable. My question is this: what on God's green earth - what the hell did they call Passion fruit before? It must have been something along the lines of Alien Snot Placenta. Look at the damn thing. Need I say more?


After I called my parents to ask what exactly I should do with a passion fruit ( they didn't know either), Nicole and I headed out to hike the Cabrits. A picture on my first blog post depicts two mountains out in Dominica's Prince Rupert Bay that bear an uncanny resemblance to a whale -that is the Cabrits. An 18th century British military fort that has been turned into a national park, the Cabrits was our destination for the day. On the way, I asked the bus driver how exactly he would eat a passion fruit. He said that no one eats them (much to my relief), but that you have to put the viscous fruit-seeds into a blender, throw in some water and sugar, blend nicely, and then strain. Good man. Anyway, we hit the bottom of the Cabrits, and decided to take one of the more rigorous trails. The view from the top was breathtaking, and ironic - upon first seeing the red-roofed fort from the Portsmouth Beach Hotel on our first day in Dominica, I turned to Nicole and said "That doesn't look very defensible". Please note the rather large cannons.


We continued up the trail, eventually reaching a point of breathtaking view (once again), at which point I realized how much it really must have sucked to have had to drag tons-heavy cannons up mountains. Now, though, I have to introduce you to what is perhaps the coolest thing I've seen thus far in my Dominican stay. Since landing on the island, I've been a little disappointed with how different it is. The birds look familiar, the people are easy to get along with ( must be my Jamaican blood), and the fruit (with the exception of the untruthfully named passionfruit) are relatively familiar as well. That being the case, I was on the lookout for something of particular awesomeness as we ascended the Cabrits. There was a rustle in the leaves beside the trail, and I looked down, expecting a lizard of the kind I'd seen moments ago - but what I saw was infinitely more interesting. There was what appeared to be a fat, legless lizard swimming through the leaf litter! Cross my heart - they didn't scamper and scurry like other little reptiles, nor did they do the hipless-serpentine shuffle (like the one snake we actually did see) - they had this sinuous, piscean wriggle I've only seen in large schools of silvery tuna on the Discovery Channel. Thus, I call it The Dirtfish (more scientifically known as the Galliwasp. Thanks, Google).


That was the highlight of the Cabrits - I don't care what anyone else says. We hiked around the ruins of the commandant's quarters and ancient batteries, and took some amazing pictures from areas that we probably shouldn't have been allowed into. There was much more to explore, but I'm glad that we went up and did some fun/touristy things before class began. The island tour was supposed to be today, but for some reason it was moved to tomorrow. Somehow, I doubt whatever happens tomorrow will be able to compare to the Day of the Dirtfish and the Alien Snot Placenta. After coming back down from the Cabrits, we stopped in Portsmouth to pick up big ol' Dominican Flag beach towels (sorry Mom - none from Jamaica), and then we went home and sat on the beach for while, until it started to rain. Then we sat on the balcony, eating oranges and watching rainbows.



The day seems so much longer when you're up before the sun - but I don't plan to make it a habit. Yesterday wasn't like that at all - we sat in on more professionalism lectures. I'm feeling something of the Devil's Advocate on this - the higher-ups are calling for a zero-tolerance policy on academic dishonesty. The moderator took comments from the class, and I said that it was a difficult place to be in - having gone through undergrad away from home, we have come to see our peers as extended family, and, per that culture, loyalties run deep. No one wants to be responsible for ending someone's career. However - we are also paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to be allowed the chance to hold ourselves to a higher standard - perhaps one of the highest known to man. The most salient point that our moderator made was that getting to that standard is a process - something we'll have to seriously work on. After the brief session and the scavenger hunt to pick up the first week's packets, we went to pick up our books and supplies! What I mean, is that we walked back to our apartments to retrieve our large rollerbags, and used them to ferry home $1500 worth of medical supplies and books. See my new suit? It's eerie to see myself like this - I can almost taste it. As the trendy student shirts say "Trust me - I'm almost a doctor". Instead of ordering the dissection kit they suggest, I'm going to use my father's - my name is already on all of the instruments! Class begins on Monday - go time.