Roseau Market

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Day 10, June 5, 2010

The whole class was taken by bus to town in time to visit the local market scene. I was excited to purchase spices and taste local fruits I had not ever heard of before. I spent the morning on the sea wall in Roseau determined to get the manual lense from my old Pentax camera to function CORRECTLY on my newish DSLR. I cracked open the manual and after just a few minutes as confronted by a teenage boy. He must have been on drugs. He was talking very fast about Dominica, all it has to offer, etc. I really did not want or need to hear this, and was trying to focus on my camera. I tried to be as direct and as polite as I could to just get him to leave me alone. Then, a young girl came up to me asking if I wanted to buy some limes. She was really working it - telling me she had met my friend, blah, blah, blah. I gave in, getting one bag for drinks and such back at the station.

I was excited about taking photos of the market and the town for a change. Markets, to me, are so relaxing. I love the social aspect of it all; farmers talking with customers face to face, people enjoying good food together, and supporting local agriculture. The market in Roseau boasted habaneros, vegetables, pineapple, mangos, papayas, and fresh spices. I got a few things while I walked around. Unfortunately for me, I was not so graceful as I strolled between stacks of crates, tables, and around potholes. In fact, my foot decided to become acquainted with one of the local potholes, resulting in me flailing into someone’s produce. I hit my arm pretty hard on a pile of crates - I am fairly certain this will result in a gigantic bruise. Go me.

The town was gorgeous today. I got lots of great photos, most of which I cannot post on the blog. I did enjoy playing with the colors of the buildings, the sunlight, the sky, and my circular polarizer. For lunch, I purchased pilao, a local dish made of chicken, rice, and vegetables. It was delicious.

We returned to the field station fairly early. Some of the students worked on their projects, others sat on the veranda talking. A group of girls, in fact, were smoking a Cuban. It was one of those times when societal norms were thrown out the window and the fairer sex got a little raunchy for a change. I didn’t partake, except to happily smell the tobacco when it drifted my way. A table over my dad was sitting, working on his computer. He was blaring Red Hot Chili Peppers and Nirvana. That was also weird. I am always surprised how much our music libraries overlap, even though we share almost everything. He was bopping his head, totally rocking out in his own little world.

Where was I during all of this? Well, I was at another table watching alternate universes cross over all while insects flew like torpedos into my head - one after another - attracted by the light of my laptop screen as I wrote this blog. As other people were acting tough or holding onto some youthfulness, I was flailing my arms about my head, eyes blinking, twitching, and cursing insect diversity.

Damn ecology.
Iara

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