I went for a bike ride today after I worked on my Creole poem for Serious Ting. I met Bill at the Baptist Church corner. I told him how I was going to the Cabrits hoping to catch a glimpse of Father Aristide, who was visiting Dominica. It didn’t [look] like he was going to be there when I arrived. No one else was there except for some man sleeping behind the gates to the Cruise Ship Building. I took some sun and some pictures. It was so refreshing to be there among the ruins.
Next I rode north towards Cottage. I saw a couple of students along the way. I turned around after riding 15 minutes. On the way back a teenager saw me, grabbed my shirt, and said, “Give me your money.” I heard a rip. I turned around to look at him as I kept riding slowly. He looked strange. His eyes had a weird gloss that made me think he was high. I didn’t know what to do; I kept on going. I wasn’t sure if my shirt ripped until I put it back on later that night.
I felt really uncomfortable running in that area. I’m glad I’m not living in that part of the island. I decided to report it to Maryann. I think I might also mention it to Mr. James. Drugs are more prevalent than I used to think according to the conversation some of the younger teachers had the other day. It’s making this beautiful island a scary place to live.