Happiness Loves Company Too

My community is a truly pleasant place to be most mornings. It’s cool and breezy and people are fresh and greeting each other. The Jamaican greeting is very important. You may not get a please or thank you but you will always get a “good morning” or a “wa gwaan”, or an “arright” (alright) with a nod in passing. Acknowledging people’s presence is of utmost importance here and following that guideline is a good way to make friends.

On one of these mornings last week I left the gate happily chatting with Evrick and we came upon a neighbor brushing her teeth outside. We greeted her in the usual way and she sang back “good morning”

However.

Without skipping a beat her tone changed to a harsh, angry shout “Bwoi! TOP ‘crape ee bed afore me ‘tab yuh inna yuh yie wi de toot brush!”

I was caught by surprise as we continued to walk through this outburst. Was she talking to Evrick? someone inside? I looked at Evrick who was shaking his head and asked, “who’s eyes are she stabbing out with a toothbrush?” He pointed out that her son had been moving something inside and it was making noise. I hadn’t heard this but, ok, she’s telling her son to stop moving the bed or she’ll stab him in the eye with a toothbrush. Reasonable.

This is not an isolated incident or an uncommon one and it probably has a lot to do with the combination of rural poverty, overexposure to violence in the media and a combative cultural history. Over the last week, I allowed myself to become very bothered by the words spoken around me. After my last week of camp, hearing children repeat the words their parents use on them to their peers, my heart was hurting. In my enthusiastic and positive America Bubble, I was taught that strong words have meaning, and to use them gently. Strong words spoken with force are things to flinch at, not say to your children, but it gets said and it perpetuates a culture of zero personal efficacy or empowerment. It’s normal to ask a child to read something and hear several children chime in “miss im cyaan read” (miss he can’t read) or to hear in conversation “Cho man ya idiat?” (whatever man, are you an idiot?), but sadder still is the prevalence of statements such as “Shuttup, mi a go beat yuh…”, or “yuh nuh good fi nutten” or “mi a go ‘tab yuh inna yuh mout…” and even “Mi a go kill yuh…”. Many children I’ve spoken to acknowledge that they don’t like being spoken to that way, but a child berated by an adult is going to retaliate on their peers in the only way they’ve been taught, with violence and angry words. Misery certainly loves company.

Many families here are not so angry and violent, however, anger tends to be louder than peace… go figure.

As I tried to write tactfully about the observations I was making several times, without being judgmental and emotional, and failed miserably. So I decided to pause for inspiration. This came in the form of an Organic Agriculture workshop at the Belmont Fishing Beach.

It was the first farming workshop that I had the pleasure of enjoying with Evrick, and I knew almost every participant in the workshop personally. These gatherings are always an opportunity to be surrounded by completely likeminded people, rejuvenating the spirit and exercising the mind. The workshop was focused on marketing as small organic farmers, and it took place in a large open gazeebo shaded by trees and 20 feet from the ocean. The breeze was constant even though the sun was hot and a hard rush of rain cooled the place down towards the end. For the first time in a while I was hearing new information at a local farming workshop, people were asking questions and knowledge was being shared. I was glad to see my community farmers interest and participation and impressed by their positivity.

My group rode back up the hill sitting along the sides of a pickup truck, laughing and joking as the vehicle hit every pothole and ascended sharply steep hillsides.

I returned home with an inspired Evrick and we continued talking about the possibilities for what we had learned taking place in Jamaica. Sitting on the veranda with him I felt that familiar glow of happiness in my soul and knew that I could write once again.

So I suppose I now understand why it took me a while to write this post. I can’t be accepting of difficult behaviors until I can understand the behavior and not let it overwhelm me. Also, I can’t feel satisfied with a blog unless it has a happy ending, which I suppose means that as long as I blog, I’ll be searching for happy endings. So if I ever stop and get real miserable, remind me to start again my friends.

Finally, here is my conclusion: Yes, misery will always love company, but happiness loves company too, it’s just not as demanding about it.