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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 Discovered My Neighbors Had Been Covertly Using My Hot Tub for a Year – I Gave Them a Memorable Lesson
Charlotte never thinks her quiet neighborhood hides secrets. But when she finds out her neighbors have been secretly using her hot tub for a year, she feels shocked and angry. She decides to teach them a lesson they won’t forget. But as she digs deeper, she discovers even more surprising things about the people living next door. What are they hiding?
It was a sunny afternoon, and I was sitting in my backyard, looking at our hot tub.
Tom and I bought our dream house a few years ago, complete with this beautiful backyard and the hot tub.
We were thrilled back then, imagining all the relaxing evenings we would spend soaking in the warm bubbles.
We knew our neighbors but weren’t particularly close. Jim and Lisa lived next door with their teenage children, Emma and Jake. They seemed nice enough, but we never really got to know them well.
Normally, Tom and I would use the hot tub a lot, especially on weekends. But this year, things were different.
I had started a new job that required a lot of travel, and Tom was working extra hours to cover for a coworker who was out on medical leave. It felt like we were always busy, and our hot tub had been neglected for months.
I missed those quiet moments of relaxation we used to have together.
I sighed, feeling a bit nostalgic. We really need to make time for ourselves again, I thought. The hot tub looked lonely, covered, and unused. It was a reminder of how our lives had changed.
I decided to call Tom. “Hey, honey,” I said when he answered, “I was thinking we need to start using the hot tub again. It’s been too long.”
Tom laughed softly. “I agree, Charlotte. Let’s plan for this weekend. We could both use some relaxation.”
I smiled, feeling a bit more hopeful. Maybe things could get back to how they used to be, even if just for a little while.
But before we could enjoy the hot tub again, our neighbor Lisa stopped by one afternoon
“Charlotte, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, looking a bit uncomfortable
“Sure, Lisa. What’s up?” I replied, curious about what she wanted to say.
“I hate to bring this up, but could you and Tom keep it down in the evenings on the weekends?” Lisa said, glancing at her feet. “There was loud music and shouting coming from your backyard last Sunday as well. Look, I’ve been quiet all this while, but it’s going to be a year now. The noise is really annoying.”
I stared at her, surprised. “But Lisa, Tom and I were out of town on Sunday. We weren’t even here. We’re out almost every weekend.”
One evening, as Tom and I soaked in the hot tub, I looked around our peaceful backyard and smiled. “We did it, Tom,” I said. “We got our home back.”
Tom nodded, holding my hand. “And we strengthened our community in the process. I couldn’t be prouder of us.”
It was a hard lesson in trust and vigilance, but it made us all stronger and more connected. And for that, I was truly grateful.
What would you have done?
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