Shadowing

An integral part of every trainee’s hub experience is the period of time when they shadow a currently serving volunteer. It gives us the experience of traveling out on our own: negotiating patwa, being white in a sea of very dark complexions, accepting the invariable truth that is running late and moving from taxi to bus with no discernable labeling system other than the shouting conductors. Once travel is conquered, shadowing offers the obviously incomparable experience of seeing how a Peace Corps Volunteer successfully (or unsuccessfully in some cases) manages life socially and professionally among Jamaicans.

I had the fortune of traveling with two other trainees, Vinai and Jackie. The three of us were headed to Morant Bay in St. Thomas Parish where Vinai would stay with his volunteer and Jackie and I would proceed with the help of our volunteer, Sarah, who lives in a town about an hour away, in a river valley, nestled between some very steep and deforested mountains.

Our task was to taxi from Woodford to Papine, bus from Papine to Kingston, bus from Kingston to Morant Bay and then taxi to Sarah’s home, about an hour north. Taxi’s here have one beginning point and one ending point, and all drivers of all vehicles get paid per person not by distance SO taxi’s do not leave until they are full, and then add people along the way. This of course means that taxi drivers have been known to fit 6-8 passengers in a four door wagon. Additionally, car inspections here either don’t exist or are not enforced so that vehicles may not have interior upholstery, or may require special measures to start. Finally, there are big yellow coach-like busses which are government funded, and then there are smaller bus-type-vans that seat about 32 and are more on par with taxis in how they operate. One person drives and another hangs out the door shouting the destination while still another walks up and down the bus park shouting and ushering people in. These bus’ are often decorated and playing music. On our way into Kingston from Papine, our bus had the words ‘mi nuh waan see nuh man sit pon di front!’ meaning the driver only wants ladies sitting near him. This bus was also stopped mid route for about 45 minutes while they repaired it and we sat, waiting.

ANYWAY. I could go on for a while about this but moving on. Sarah is famously one of the most well integrated volunteers on Island, so living with her was like learning from a master: intimidating and inspiring. She has several projects, chats patwa with everyone from the pickney to the women in their yards, the farmers in the bush and old and young men alike and dates a man from town. She is locking her hair and is respectfully called “brownin” by those in her community, who loved her completely the day she rode a donkey two hours through the bush to weed carrots on a farm plot- not something any woman in town would be caught dead doing. The best advice I’ve learned from most volunteers is to do something surprising and awesome, get them to notice you for something besides your skin color or your poom poom (vagina)- street cred, they call it.

Sarah’s main project is to construct containment dams, which are built in the gullies that water makes coming down the mountain. Farmers have grazed their livestock so heavily and burned so frequently that the ground cover is simply a peach fuzz of grass blades, and heavy rains have been known to bury houses under feet and feet of soil (last time in 2004). The dams are meant to catch the soil before it reaches the houses, while allowing the water to flow through them.


We hiked through a gully to see some dams and then hiked up, up, up to see the reforestation project- trying to plant seedlings in the barren earth. The view was also breathtaking.

As we sat, regaining our breath in the shade and chatting, some men came through- one old Rasta and two other men who Sarah knew. They and their donkey were on their way into the bush to visit their farm plot, did we want to come along for some sugar cane? Why, yes, we would! And so I found myself in the most curious of hiking crews: Donkey in front attached by a rope to the shoeless and shirtless Rasta man who was chat-chat-chatting along with Sarah about politics, people, the land and all sorts of other things I could’t follow, behind her the other man, then I, Jackie and the third man with his wafting ganja smoke behind. The forest changed abruptly to pine trees, bringing with it comforting smells of home, confusing sights of bamboo and mango mixed in and increased political chatter from the front of the line, as the pine trees are not native, not good for the soil and are planted by the government for lumber production (and reforestration- so they say). We arrived to the plot to find lush, lush everything growing everywhere- a true Rasta man, growing organic, patient and careful, and proud of his land and what grows there. We sat about gnawing on sugar cane and chatting, and upon leaving to get lunch at a dam construction site were presented with a sack full of produce to carry home, along with three 4ft long pieces of cane.



We headed back, and after about an hour realized we had no idea where we were. Sarah, in Jamaican fashion, had no minutes on her phone and her supervisor, it turns out, had none either. Through phone borrowing on his end we connected and he advised us to turn around and walk back, calling to him, and he’d come try to meet us. About 25 minutes into this crazyness we met a farmer on his way back to the community and our exhausted, sweating and hungry bodies willingly followed, along with the 3 canes of sugar and sack of produce full of carrots and yams and more cane.

We arrived home, anxiously showered and positively feasted on a dinner of steamed lionfish (serious invasive species everywhere this side of the Americas) which I had never had before and was thrilled to learn that I actually liked it a lot.

Anyway, this post is getting very long, thanks for sticking to it if you’ve gotten this far. The ride home was pretty uneventful today, we arrived back to the lush Woodford mountains and had another interview with Dan, to see how our minds have shifted- Dan is as confident as ever in my abilities and very excited to see me assimilate into my community, which of course has me positively squirming to just KNOW already.

Gotta plan another Eco Camp tomorrow for Friday, I’m exhausted and expect to sleep well tonight. Peace and Love to you all and may your dreams be as sweet as sugar cane<3

Team Building

These days move by so quickly, I feel I just wrote a big long entry and looking back realize that those events seem to have taken place ages ago. For the record I feel much better, I had to wear my glasses all week but finally my eye is pretty much normal.

This past Friday, we had our first Eco Camp- a practical application of the things we've learned in hub so far. We entertained 21 students from Woodford with ecology themed activities such as a water cycle demonstration, the migration game, compost relay, planting seeds and reusing bottles to make toys. We split the kids into 4 groups, 4 of us acting as team leaders, the rest of the trainees ran the activities as we rotated around, keeping the kids focused and excited. I was the leader of the Yellow Boas, a group very diverse in age and therefore a bit difficult to gauge in terms of education. Of course they were quiet to begin with, self conscious of getting answers wrong and of being an 'uncool' level of excited- a limitation I of course grew out of long ago.

With about an hour left, rain began to fall, heavy and persistent. We transitioned quickly to indoor activities and decided to cut out the last rotation in the interest of time and space. The kids readjusted and cooperated very well during this moment of chaos, we were impressed and relieved that nothing was truly ruined.
We finished the day with a game show to test what they had learned and followed that up with prizes for all and finally, lunch. Having done environmental education, this was better practice for working with my crew than with actual education.

The rain continued off and on into Saturday- a day we had set aside for a team building field trip into Kingston. On the walk down to catch the bus, I got soaking wet and was therefore rather miserable for much of the morning. The rain in the mountains is cold and the air is cool, both factors contributing to my misery. Our first stop was Devon House, an old plantation turned ice cream shop/bakery/plaza in Kingston. This was the first time I've had ice cream in Jamaica, though I quickly followed it with a hot cup of Blue Mountain Coffee.

With my shoes still soaked but my pants slowly drying, we walked down town to catch a bus to the stadium where an invitational track meet was being held. On our way, I stopped and bought a pair of rubber flats for 400JM, improving my mood significantly.
Once at the track meet, it was nice to sit and watch: the runners, the field, the audience. Jamaicans love their runners and the stands were swarming with excited fans, college students, moms dads and kids, seniors... people of all ages were there to cheer and be entertained. Men pedaled cotton candy, peanuts, banana chips and bag juice (essentially water and sugar in a bag which you bite a hole in to drink it). Usain Bolt, Shelly-Ann Fraiser and other Olympic contenders were there to run, and the crowd went wild when they did.
Finally, the part we were all excited for, was dinner at a JaMexican restaurant. Burritos! Tacos! Fajitas! Salsa! CHEESE! Red Stripe and Tequila too were consumed. We ate well and cheers'd with tequila and the drive home was high strung and giggly. The field trip had done it's job, we felt refreshed and united as the Green Initiative. The next day Autumn and Jackie came to my house and we hung out in my room, using the internet, trading music and watching TV shows on the computer. Being lazy and bonding :)

Days Off

This weekend was a holiday weekend here in Jamaica which meant that we had off Friday and Monday.

I already described farming on Friday. On Saturday Shameaka and I went into Papine, a district of Kingston close to the steep mountains and then to Kingston... and then back to Papine. As you snake your way down the mountain, houses and buildings get closer together and nearer to the road when finally the road levels out and Papine is before you in all her urban glory. To the left of the road is blocks of buildings holding cell phone stores, hair and nail salons, the off track betting/gambling outlet and of course various shops selling 'sweetie' snacks and drinks. The road splits into two one way roads with a park-like square in the middle. To the right of the square is a grocery market and a bit more of the same, with some jerk chicken sellers here and there. If you look beyond the line of businesses on the left, it drops steeply, following a road further into the valley, and directly across the way, another mountain side dotted with fancy homes taking in the view. Of course there's also the beautiful sight of garbage pretty much everywhere you look, regardless of location.

In Papine we visited with Shameaka's cousin who does hair and got a pattie for lunch. Patties are cheap fast food type concoctions, a flaky turnover-like crust filled with one of several options: beef, chicken and sometimes veggie chunks (soy). One can put this between a fold of sweet white coco bread to add some more carbs but I generally prefer the comfort of a side of fries. After lunch we headed into town (Kingston) with Sham's other cousin who recently found that she is 2 months pregnant with her third child (her other two girls are sweethearts, the youngest of them has just the biggest eyes and the sharpest tongue). In town I followed the women around the busy streets towards coronation market, where I'd gone with Peggy 2 weeks ago. Sham bought some sunglasses and earrings but the open and crowded layout was too distracting for me to actually shop, I never realized how partial I am to the quiet and orderly mall setting. I was glad to move to the produce market where the prospect of fresh fruits and veggies laid at arms reach. I bought some broccoli to put in pasta, and tomatoes and cucumbers for lunch sandwiches.
We went back to Papine where I waited for Sham to get her nails done. As I sat, a man came in with a suitcase and began to take clothing out of it. All the ladies knew this man, stopped what they were doing and asked him to throw them things if they liked how they looked. They then appraised the quality, fit and price before taking it of throwing it back to him to pack back up. He visited for a bit and on his way out asked for my number so he could get to know me. Psh, classic Jamaican.
By the end of Friday I was exhausted with a headache and feeling sick, I've been fighting something for a few days now, but I'll get to that.
Sunday was Easter, I skyped with the family and stayed inside most of the morning due to rain. Once the rain stopped I met up with the other trainees and we took a long walk up the hill to Jack Allen, a kind of district of Woodford (the town I'm in, I'm supposed to be discrete about public displays of location...PDL?)The district I'm a part of is Freetown, which one can see from Jack Allen. We took the back way instead of a road so that it would seem more hike-ish, it was my first time among those houses I said I'd no idea how to get to... I can't imagine being old in one, how could they get groceries up the mountain with no car access??

Sunday there was to be a wedding in Kingston and I was invited to attend by another host family. I think the last wedding I went to was Uncle Toph and Aunt Holly's and I don't remember it as I was a likkle pickney (have i mentioned this yet? 'little child'). A 7th day Adventist wedding reminded me of a more chauvinistic Roman Catholic wedding though, lots of emphasis on the role of a man vs the role of a woman in a marriage. A 7th Day Adventist wedding is a dry wedding, no alcohol and finally a 7th Day Adventist wedding is one where you sit and listen to people give speeches and toasts while you eat food for 4 hours- there was no dancing. The wedding got me really excited to plan my own, something that has never crossed my mind unless it's to think "I wonder why I never feel compelled to plan my own fairy tale wedding? oh well, come on Lucy let's get muddy."
While I'd expect no fairy tale, I'd expect something along the lines of my going away party, except I'd get to wear a pretty white dress and spend the rest of my life with someone special. Daaw.

Today (Tuesday) I went to training feeling under the weather as has been the case since Thursday. I called Viola, the PC nurse to let her know that I scratched my eye over the weekend, not expecting her to tell me to leave immediately for the doctor. With 500 JD (jamaican dollars) in my pocket and no ID to speak of, I took a taxi with Robert, one of the trainers, down into Kingston. I was not in a great mood and felt sicker as we got in. I have a mild corneal abrasion and must use antibiotic drops however, the sickness is simply a cold, nothing to diagnose and I must stick it out. I opted to come home after the doctor's instead of go back to training, I slept for a few hours to the tune of some anxious dreams and now find myself awake with a bit of a fuzzy brain. Hopefully I can find enough rest tonight to feel better tomorrow... the thought of the walk home feels very daunting this side of Wednesday.

I hope good health and happiness is following you all <3

Farming

Told you I'd have more time to blog :-p

The town I'm living in is one predominantly made up of farmers, a perfect place for the Green Initiative to begin our specified learning. Each of the Green Initiative members were invited to serve under even more specific titles such as Agroforestry (me), agrobuisness/tourism, environmental education and so forth. While these sub-titles are not as important as the overall sector title, it is interesting to see how each of our skill sets drive us to ask questions and give answers. Some of us ask questions applicable to the worth of a crop or the sale of it while others ask about ground cover, crop rotation and pest control. Our trainer Anika and our other teachers are not actually educated in any environmental fields, their true strengths are facilitation and of course, being Jamaican. Anika will always find an answer for us if she doesn't know it, but she knows everyone in town who holds information we can use and so she invites them to our training sessions regularly. It's useful to watch Anika work and teach as our overall purpose is to be a facilitator ourselves so that the success and sustainability of a project doesn't land on our shoulders. We've been told it may take up to 2 years just to get our project off the ground, and for Americans this can be frustrating. We're encouraged to find alternative outlets such as tutoring in schools or starting a youth program outside of our assigned organization so that boredom and frustration does not get the best of us.

Yesterday (Friday morning) Pat and I shadowed a farmer, a man hosting a fellow volunteer. The front and side of his house is lined with thick greenery, some flowers for show but also tomato plants, mint and parsley, cho-cho vines, guava trees and various seedlings being prepared to replant in the fields. For confidentiality I'll call this man Mr. Gill. Mr. Gill received us warmly, put on a pair of tall rubber boots and grabbed his machet (machete, but it looks like a short dull sword). He led us behind his house, past a hutch of hens and down a sloping clay path. We were immediately plunged into lush greenery as he pointed out his coffee plants, the difference between banana and plantain plants, guava trees and so forth. The first field we passed was his by law, he owned it and he farmed it. The adjacent plot was not his nor was he the one farming it- this one had grapefruit, guava, mango and other fruit trees. We snaked down the path as it got skinnier and wetter, hearing the soothing sounds of the 'river' (more like a small stream at this time' down below. As we got closer and then crossed the stream, Mr. Gill pointed out the high water mark where the water would be around october-december, a good 7-10 ft from the current level. We continued walking to his next plot, government owned but citizen farmed. We asked the legal process involved and he replied that there is none, he had pointed out his third plot to us earlier as we descended the mountain, a square of banana trees a bit higher than where we stood, up the opposite slope, this too was government land.
Mr. Gill plants with no particular rhyme or reason, so he says. He has a few cabbage growing beneath some banana trees, gungu peas in a patch below that and somehow, he points out, a ganja plant found its way in among a patch of red peas. Someone probably smoked there and dropped some seeds. Mr. Gill uses chemicals to combat pests when it is needed, we did not ask how often or how much as we did not want to seem offensive or like we know better. He also slashes and burns to control weed and invasives growth however, the majority of his current plots are completely covered in plant growth, the only exception being a month old patch of banana and pine (pineapple) which was recently sown. He says that this is his biggest concern if a big rain were to come, it would wash everything away, however with the amount of growth just a month brought, I imagine he'll be safe until October.
Mr. Gill does not farm for the money, he is a carpenter and mason by trade and giggled when I commented that he is a man of many skills. He pointed out baby beans and a new cho-cho vine like they were his children, adopting a slightly higher pitch and a loving tone when indicating their wherabouts, letting out a little giggle saying 'see da baby cho-cho der? Jus climbin up the mango tree *hehe*' What a proud daddy.

My life shifts when I return home, my young host mom sent her son away with his dad for the long weekend and she is feeling happily liberated. I see her more as a friend than a mother for sure, which is great but kind of has me more reserved since she plunges herself into social situations while I stand quietly, knowing that the boys are looking me up and down as they yell 'hey whitey!'... Shameaka told me to call back 'wa'gwaan black man!' I tried it on her brother last night and his crew laughed and left me alone so I suppose I'll try that one out again. The color thing doesn't bother me as much as the stares from the men like I'm a prize or a piece of meat. American men at least pretend to be your friend, even if they want to take you home. I'll never complain about indecent American boys again I promise you that.

Sham and I are heading down the mountain today into 'town' ie Kingston. Should be a fun use of a day most of my co-trainees are at the 7th day Adventist church. HA, they'll be there from 7-4 if their host families are super religious. I'll be celebrating my holy day in nature if all goes to plan.

until next time, peace and love to you all <3

Aaaand New Scene

It's been about 5 days since I left Hellshire and I do apologize for not being more on top of the blogging thing. The rest of last week flew by with group training wrapping up with a tour of Port Royal and the national art gallery in Kingston. As you can see from my photos on facebook, we had a great deal of fun at Port Royal where my affinity for historical ruins and abandoned buildings was apparent to my new friends. The city was once the most prosperous in the Indies but was ravaged by several earthquakes, sending it's outskirts into the sea and depleting the actual city to about 1/3 it's actual size. Captain Morgan reigned there and lived in Fort Charles, the featured location in my photos. From the fort, one can see the ocean on three sides.
When we got home from the field trip we found that our host families (a particular few) had been cooking all day and setting up a nearby park for a grand sendoff feast. Curried goat, BBQ chicken, fish, pasta and egg salad, festival (a sweet, bready fried-dough-like stick), salad and I can't even remember the rest were laid out on a table while host families, friends and our training staff got together in rare form. By darkness, the volunteers walked the 2 blocks to the bar and finally a few of us ended up at a community members birthday party. The Jamaicans taught the PCT's some dance moves and we had what I felt was our first true night out.
Sunday morning we woke, packed and gathered in the church parking lot to say goodbye to our hospitable host families, and to each other. For the next five weeks we will be training in our specialized sectors, groups of 12, this is called 'hub' training. The Green Initiative has since moved to the mountains, while the Youth As Promise (HIV ed) and the Education sectors have moved to areas outside of Kingston.

The town I live in now is in the John Crow (jahncrow) Mountains, named for Jamaica's only breed of vulture. The John Crow Mountains become the Blue Mountains as the peaks grow higher towards the center of the Island. The highest point is the Blue Mountain at approx 7,000ft. Getting to my homestay from Kingston is reminiscent of driving in the Andes mountains of Peru. While a lower elevation, these are steeply sloped and layered, the roads snake back and forth, the potholes are immense and I'm still shocked two vehicles can fit side by side (sometimes they just can't due to construction or...goats...). Houses are quite nestled into the slopes, I still can't figure out to get to some of them, and often the rooftop or second story of a home is even with the road above it.
We are more spread out here, five of us live along my road, four live up another (2 couples) and another two live down the mountain closer to school. The walk to school is about 30 minutes while the walk home is closer to 45. The slope on the walk home is relatively constant and sometimes almost impossibly steep- my legs are gonna look niiiiice by May.
Training this week has been so interesting to me (usually). It's basically intro to environmental studies-Jamaica style and come on, you know das mah jam. The defiant 'stick it to the man' attitude here combined with a post-colonial culture makes a potent concoction for environmental reform, especially when 'the man' (ie ntl govt) has a hard time following or enforcing it's own laws. We got a good look at the challenges we'll be facing and how to pose environmental problems as social ones to capture public attention. Also, the constantly percolating coffee was a huge plus.

Today we went on a hike at the Hollywell Protected Area and learned about the local plants and invasives. The views are amazing here and we summitted 4,000+ ft... I can't wait to climb the Blue Mountain eventually.

I know I'm leaving things out, but I'll be here for the next four weeks so ask me questions if you have them and I'll answer them in subsequent posts. Also more pics to come... the internet is slow at night so they load real slow.

I have the next 4 days off for Easter break, tomorrow morning I am shadowing a local farmer which I'm really excited about and Sunday we are planning for an Easter hike. Miraculously I think mine is the only host mom not interested in Easter mass and while my religious tendencies are limited at best, It'll be the first Easter I've not gone to church with the whole family.

On a related note- A blaring and heartfelt Happy Birthday to my Grandma Josie, I feel her presence every day in the beautiful land of wood and water. I send big hugs to Daddy and my aunts and Pop-pop (and of course the rest of my family because I love and miss you all).

Finally I leave you with the meaning behind the colors of Jamaica and her flag:
"Hardship there is but the land is green and the sun shineth"

May the spring sunshine bring smiles and warmth to you all back home
<3

Keeping It Talawah!

'Mi likkle but mi a talawah' is my new favorite Jamaican proverb. I bet you can guess why- Talawah means powerful, strong, mighty...
On a related note, the national bird of Jamaica is (drumroll please) the HUMMINGBIRD. Small but mighty my friends, small but mighty.

So week two is beginning to breeze on by out here on the southern coast of this little country (the size of the state of CT incidentally). Training has been chock full of information from culture and language to safety and security and all that falls in between. The highlight of my days are always the first and last segments of the day: Culture and Language; Sector Rooms. Culture and language is just great because it offers me the hope that someday, maybe, I'll understand what the people around me are saying. Sector meetings at the end of the day focus on the responsibilities and expectations of the Green Initiative program. My sector leaders are fantastic- easygoing, knowledgeable and encouraging- and the subject matter is so applicable I can't help but be excited and attentive, even at the end of the day when we're sticky, hot and drained from previous activities. This being drained that I speak of comes in both physical and emotional/mental waves.

This past Friday I went to karaoke with my friend and his host dad. The event was at a ritzy hotel in Kingston and was unlike any karaoke I'd ever seen. White chairs were lined up along the side of a pool in the courtyard. The pool was spewing an elegant fountain from it's middle and lighted trees protected the chairs, which faced the stage at the front of the pool. I chose to sing Rolling in the Deep by Adele, even though I'd never actually sung the whole song. The night hadn't even begun yet when they called my name to sing and as I was caught unaware, my walk to the stage was long and awkward. As I walked they explained that this is the first time a newcomer has opened the night. OY.
I sang the song to the best of my abilities as the DJ interjected on the soundboard with bytes saying 'WOWEE' and ridiculous things like that... I've never been to a karaoke that actually reacts AS the person is singing. People clapped and smiled as I finished and the emcee grabbed the mic saying 'wow what a little girl with a big voice!' or something along those lines. The rest of the night carried some real talent- people obviously accustomed to performing and showing off... no one was actually BAD. Also, a man proposed to his girlfriend via song dedication and on the way home we ate jerk chicken that was handed to us from the grill on the curb through the window of the car. This is a common occurrence in Kingston and I suspect in the rest of Jamaica.

Saturday, Peggy took me to Coronation Market, an activity all host parents were expected to do so that we could learn to barter and negotiate the crowds. The market is huge and is located in Kingston, so it was also my first bus and taxi experience. The market is HUGE and spans from under a giant pavilion outwards, under crudely strung tarps that had me thankful I'm 5ft tall. Peggy was very selective about her prices and she could be because there were SO many people selling similar items. She also bought so much that we each carried a bag, and then had to share the weight of a third bag between us. It was a funny sight I can imagine and we were pretty tired by the time we returned home.

Sunday a few of us walked about a half hour down the road to Twin Sister's cave, two beautiful caves nearby nestled in a pit of Banyan trees and other flora. The caves were essentially the openings to brackish water tunnels and home to blue backed lobster, young talapia, bats, owls and crayfish as well as lots of anole-type lizards and birds. After, we went to the beach to celebrate a few volunteers' birthdays. It was so relaxing to lay out, swim and have a couple cold(ish) beers. Later that night I realized that I was burned to a crisp and currently am thanking karma that Peggy has a healthy sized aloe plant in her front yard.

Today I talked to Dan my program manager in an interview format so that he could better understand my goals and skills and personality to place me in my final location. I've been strongly identified as 'de baby' lately among Hellshire-folk, although those who speak to me eventually recognize the 'mighty' part. As I spoke about my ability to teach and lead, my preference for hands on work and my interest in music, his smile got wider and wider 'I can't say anything about placement, but I've got ideas for you' he said amidst a smile. I laughed and said I like to sing and jam out in my spare time and he smiled once again, this time proud of some little secret he had in his own head and gave me a high five. If he's not worried, I'm gonna stop worrying. His confidence translated immediately to me and I've felt good all day. While Hellshire has been a wonderful community to start my growth, I can't wait to leave for my hub training in the mountains this Sunday!

Wa'gwaan Mi Friends!

Well I've been in Jamaica exactly 7 days and if I thought pre-departure was a whirlwind I was fooling myself. The first 3 days we spent in the capitol of Kingston at a hotel, where sleep was minimal and activity was frequent. A wonderful welcome ceremony greeted us at the Peace Corps office the evening we arrived- a day that we got a total of 3 hours of sleep at best, so we were all more closely resembling zombies.
Last Friday we headed to Hellshire in St.Catherine parish where we met our first homestay families. We met through a word matching game, I had a slip of paper that said 'peanut butter' on it, my 'jelly' I came to find, is a short older woman affectionately called Peggy. I thought it appropriate that she was wearing a purple floral shirt as she loosely resembled jelly.
Miss Peggy is a firecracker of a woman, who knows pretty much everyone in Hellshire proper. She cares for her 18 year old grandniece, who has already taught me a great deal about the younger culture as compared to Peggy's age bracket. She also sings wonderfully- we share a love of singing Adele. Upon hearing me sing, Miss Peggy told her entire church parish that I was to sing in church on Sunday. Which I did, along with a co-volunteer. We sang Amazing Grace so that the congregation could sing along and a lady of the church later told me she wished we'd sung a song no one knew so she could hear our voices. mwahaha my plan succeeded.
Hellshire is a coastal town, and a drier climate than most in Jamaica. Limestone, palm trees and cacti are predominant in the landscape, along with papaya, mango and other fruit trees. From the church where we have training class, you can see the town and the ocean beyond. The beach on weekends is covered in locals and tourists alike, shacks parallel the waterline selling seafood and beer while rasta and the like sell bagged shrimp, candies ('sweetie') souvenirs and of course, ganja. Yes this is illegal, and yes, the police are often quite nearby when this happens.
Houses are all generally open, doors are iron 'grilles' so that there is no need for a doorbell, one must simply yell the name of the person they need, and that person can hear from the back room: 'Wa'gwaan Miss Peggy!?' is a phrase often shouted by my peers as they search for me but also, they love my host mom.

Training has been exhausting, we just started language training. It's a lot of info to keep up on day by day and the paperwork is piling up but sector training offers promise of topics I can understand and provide some knowledge in. I still have a lot to know about Jamaica but for now I 'tank de lawd' for my outgoing personality in winning over the village ladies.

thats all for now my loves, until next time
<3