Jamaica

After pretending to sleep in Fort Lauderdale for a couple of hours, Marie and I boarded a plane for Montego Bay. We arrived and filled out our customs and immigration cards, but lapsed in our judgment. While talking to my brother, I never knew what his address was or the exact place where he lived. While the customs lady took my brother's phone in back and then made a phone call, Marie and I waited patiently sweating.

We got through and only declaring Cheetos on the customs card, we stepped outside into a mob of taxi drivers anxiously awaiting our rich American money. My brother stood among them trying to fight for our attention and I did not recognize him. My brother has hair now. I do not think I have seen hair from Scott since he was in the fourth grade.

After hugging our hellos and stepping into the sun, we shouldered our packs and set to walk downtown Montego Bay. As we walked, the taxi drivers tried to honk and ask if we needed a ride. My brother and his wife were very nice about waving them on. We walked by the touristy areas with a Jimmy Buffet Margaritaville where most patrons were from a cruise ship docked in harbor. We walked past tons of Bob Marley souvenirs and lots of Rasta gear. We then ducked into a dark walkway and into a health food store that sold little Calzone like wraps filled with vegetables. As we ate we noticed the nice selection of goods, including Bob's Red Mill flour from Oregon and Air Matresses. I am not sure who needs that when shopping for health food, but hey, there they were. We then walked through the downtown area, NOT touristy and found a public bus to take us to Savanna La Mar, or Sav.

We packed the bus, which is not much bigger than an Astro van wide, and a 15 passenger van deep with 18-19 passengers. Four to a row, with make shift benches to fill space. We were not quite on top of each other but fairly close. Buses are as you can imagine, Hot, sticky, no personal space, and the driver drives as if it were a video game. We passed many a school child on the road, orange groves, sugar cane, mule pulled carts, goats, little wooden buildings selling goods, tiny shacks that I am sure served as houses. It was an amazing cross section of Jamaica in a few hours.

We arrived at Sav and went into a grocery store, not unlike a small Safeway in the US, but less decorated. We walked out with some neccesities and tried to find a bus to Bluefield. With 2 white people that work on the island, it is somewhat easy to find a taxi. With 4, and carrying luggage, the drivers only want to take us to Negril. "Where you go, Negril? I give you good price." or "HONK HONK- Negril taxi you want ride mon?" Finally Marie and I held our bags farther down on the sidewalk as our local hosts hailed the correct taxi going the opposite way of Negril. We again piled in with lots of school children and working class Jamaicans.

We arrived at Scott and Carrie's house and enjoyed a chance to sit and rest. After a good visit we walked around their yard which contains many fruit trees, a pirate cave (could have belonged to Mr. Morgan himself), coral reef, a garden and a nice lawn. The yard is shared with their landlord and a few relatives. It is a gated lawn but their house has three rooms. A bedroom, bath, kitchen and living room. Very tiny quarters but it will serve us well on the island. Marie and I are working on jet lag and minimal sleep, but I think we will have some curried vegetables and sleep well tonight.