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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
I Married a Janitor to Spite My Wealthy Dad, When My Dad Came to Speak with My Husband, He Fell to His Knees at His Words
Anna had always been under her wealthy father’s control, his “stability” more a cage than a gift, with her life a tool for alliances, not love. Desperate to escape, one autumn day she impulsively asked a young janitor to marry her. The janitor, Ethan, agreed, and for the first time, Anna experienced freedom, learning the simple joys of a life without control.
When her father found out, he was furious, dismissing Ethan as beneath them—until Ethan revealed he was the son of her father’s former business partner, Andrew, whom her father had betrayed years ago. For the first time, Anna saw her father show regret, and in a rare moment, he apologized, reconnecting with Andrew in a gesture of forgiveness. For Anna, it was a new beginning, free from her father’s plans and built on love and reconciliation
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