The 13th Annual Conference on Catholic Theology held recently in Dominica was not all talk and thought. On the afternoon of Wednesday, June 13, we had a splendid opportunity of seeing the beautiful island with its lofty hills and mountains and its sparkling rivers.

On this outing we went by bus, one of those open-sided buses that one sees in pictures of Disneyland, and just as brightly coloured.

In Dominica, the roads are fairly narrow and all of them winding, so you can imagine the squeals of excitement coming from these serious-minded theologians, as we rocked to and fro on our way.

But it was the mangoes that caught our attention, there were thousands everywhere, on the trees, on the ground, on the rooftops, in the drains, absolutely everywhere, and would you believe it, in the market stalls. Does anyone buy mangoes in Dominica?

Our first stop was a fresh water lake that provides hydro-electric power to some of the villages and towns. It was not very full, as the rains had not yet come to Dominica.

It was a scenic spot though, and some of our brave ones decided to at least get into a boat moored at the side. Their bravery did not get far as soon we had to be moving off.

And the rivers, one for every day of the year, bubbling, babbling along, swirling over stones or under bridges, or taking a rest in pools, with water always clear, cool and tempting. We trudged along to see waterfalls and sulphur springs. Dominica is indeed a nature country, nature at its best.

Evening came and we were out again to what proved the highlight of our trip, an evening to Giraudel. We set off at about 6.30 p.m. from the Holy Redeemer Retreat Centre.

With such questions as: Where are we going? To a bonfire. You mean a campfire? No, a bonfire. Are we going to burn things? Not you, other people will.

Theology Conference participants

It soon became dark. There we were in the bus, jogging along to God knows where.

We could barely talk but for the jogging. If there were a pregnant woman among us, there would surely have been a pre-mature birth.

Time passed and we were still on the road. The chatter and the laughter subsided from time to time and ticking minds were frantically calculating all kinds of things. How much longer? Will we ever arrive?

It was pitch black outside, no street-lights, narrow roads, roads like the inside of craters. Oh my God! We are being attacked! No, no, it is raining mangoes from the overhanging branches.

We are going…. Heaven knows where we are going…We will be there 
The bus finally stopped on a narrow rocky runway, we had arrived. And what a welcome!

Family, friends, children, neighbours were there to welcome us, drinks of fruit punch, rum punch, passion fruit drink, guava, green mango drinks were passed around and everything tasted good.

There at the edge of the clearing was a huge cauldron burning brightly. There really was a bonfire! Dried coconut fronds and other inflammable material were constantly being fed to it, then the sparks would fly high into the air and we could see each other more clearly.

The drumming began and the young people took up their dancing of the bele and other dances, while we sat contentedly in the dark sipping our drinks and enjoying every minute of it.

Then – and you won’t believe this – one by one we were pulled on to the dance floor and were made to join in the dance. There was no choice.

Games we had not played since childhood days (There’s a brown girl in the ring) and other Dominican games and dances unknown to us, had to be learnt on the spot. It was great!

When we were all good and tired, we were served a meal complete with dessert. After this the dancing and revelry continued. These serious students and professors and doctors of theology let their hair down, forgot their inhibitions and literally had a ball to familiar Caribbean music. It was a glorious and unforgettable evening under the stars in a little village in Dominica.

The time came for us to leave, but not before giving thanks to our gracious hosts. We had to drag ourselves away from a wonderful experience of Dominican hospitality.

We clambered onto our bus for the ride home. It was late, we were tired, but we were silently thanking God for so much, especially for the pleasure of being with our Dominican brothers and sisters.