The Little Victories

Acknowledging and accepting limitations is not something I am generally very good at. I like to imagine myself as invincible, a ”tough cookie”, someone who can be leaned on and relied on- likkle but talawah, young but wise, a humming bird: small and fierce.

HAHA man do I need to get over myself. Seriously. I can’t possibly have those expectations of myself while working in a community of people I’m just getting to know. So I’m learning to focus on the little victories- they’ll add up eventually right?

Since the farmers meeting, we’ve held some meetings and work days with varying levels of success. The work days have accomplished a pegged out “floor plan” of the demonstration plot and we chopped down 9 shoots of bamboo (which are very, very long).  We are now focusing on the display for Denbigh and those who have been participating give me hope that we can pull off something to impress.

Another little victory has been a Community Notice Board that I finally painted yesterday. On it, I post things like meetings for the week and announcements for events. It resides on the outside wall of the CDC container, a great location overlooking the ball field. I’m hoping that the more I use it, the more community members will also use it.

The community has also been holding a talent competition for the past few weekends. We’re in the semi-finals now. Volunteers tend to speak about that one thing they did that really pushed their integration into the community- riding a donkey into the bush, dancing at a stage show etc. I sang as a ‘guest performance’ at the talent competition 2 weeks ago, it went well in terms of no mistakes and whatnot but I’m not sure it was “that thing”. I bet it’ll be something completely unexpected.

I will be getting a bicycle soon! There’s a little victory! It’ll probably take me 20 minutes to bike to the nearest other PCV’s (and the waterfront bar down the street from them), 30 to get to the beach! I’ll be able to make my own schedule and not worry so much about taxis! Maybe I’ll even get in better shape (my dairy farming body is now firmly a thing of the past, siiigh).

The last few weeks has had its fair share of bad news and nostalgia for home, and sometimes the little victories are bittersweet (heavy on the bitter). When a good friend goes home for good (we call it ETing, early termination), sometimes the tears not only reflect mourning for a friend but personal uncertainties, and the conclusion can only be the very littlest of victories- “I’m still here”.

The time is hot here, and rain has been falling hard almost every day- hurricane season is underway and most nights, even if the stars are out, lightening flashes in the distance. The combination of these discomforts has prompted me to set up my hammock across the bar of my “closet”. I’m therefore comfortably swinging and writing this entry, a fan pointed directly at me, my headscarves tickling my toes. The epitome of a little victory.

This coming weekend is the big PCV gathering in Portland- entirely across the Island from me. I will be leaving tomorrow morning to visit my girl J and staying with her overnight. Everyone will get together for the weekend in a big rented house and then on Monday, I get a free ride from Kingston with our Enviro Program Manager (with my bicycle in the trunk I hope). The weekend after that I get to see the Green Initiative crew again at Denbigh! THEN the first weekend in September my family is visiting me!! I think that’s enough silver linings to get me through the next month.

Progress, Or Something

Last night I had one of those nights where your brain doesn’t shut off until 3:30 in the morning and instead goes over every possibility the next day might bring in minute detail while singing complicated Adele songs in anticipation of the far away event I might have to sing them. I woke a few hours later and proceeded to the demonstration plot with Barbara where our tired looking sorrel transplants recovered in the sunshine and dry topsoil. Waiting in the shade for the person we needed to complete the task at hand (pegging out the locations for the seedling nurseries) I gazed at the hilltops asking the names of structures and clearings. Once we realized the person was not going to come, Barbara decided to show me how to get to the Paradise Hill Guesthouse- a building at the very top of the hill (or mountain, I don’t know what to call them b/c they might not be ‘Catskills high’ but they are steep).

We began our ascent in a district called “Silent Lane”, an unpaved road with sparsely placed houses among lush greenery- mango, pimento, pear, ginup, fig and breadfruit trees, thick vines of yellow and red flowers, ferns that look fake and copious other unidentified flora. As the road deteriorated into a path, the houses became more prominently wood board and tin roof structures (as opposed to cinderblock and concrete), the vegetation continued to be magnificent and I began to miss my dog something fierce. I am discovering a side of Beeston Spring that I adore- paths that have all the regenerative properties of a good hike, and that lead to places where people live and farm. I am a strange sight in many places in Jamaica, but especially wandering on my own in the bush. And I’ve not been accustomed to doing so for the last 3 years, since a perky little canine version of myself nestled into my arms. I found myself wondering if I’d ever find a dog in Jamaica who so happily follows my footsteps, and understands my words (those who know Lucy know that this is no dramatization). It feels alien and lonely to wander in the woods without a canine companion, even with the presence of Barbara. Needless to say I’m searching for a puppy. Not to take home, just to love in the interim, for just as age brings the wisdom to accept the things you don’t like, it also brings the wisdom to accept the person you are. I, am a dog person.

Anyway, we arrived at Paradise Hill and I promptly acknowledged that it was very aptly named. Nestled on a mountain top and surrounded by mountains, the Beeston Spring valley in the immediate landscape and the ocean beyond, Paradise Hill attracts a cool breeze, has a pool and a bar. On a clear day you can see as far as Treasure Beach along the coastline. Today it was quiet and the owner showed me around and then we sat in the shade talking about Beeston Spring, behavior change, American influences and the connection between anything called ‘Columbia’ and the Illuminati.

On the walk down I continued to marvel at the ‘hidden’ poverty in Beeston Spring. The thing about it here is that it’s literally off the beaten path, and off the beaten path means various differences- access to water and electricity being the main two, the former more than the latter. It’s not an easy walk, and I witnessed a mother carrying her infant, an umbrella for shade and a large purse up the hill, negotiating the uneven and rocky terrain in a simple pair of sandals. I also watched a woman leave her house with an overflowing hamper of clothes on her head, about to do her wash at the top of the hill where the water spigot is- and we were about halfway between the bottom and top when this occurred. People here continue to perplex and amaze me.

What went on between  arriving back to the main road and the evening is not of consequence. This evening though, I inadvertently led my first Farmers Group meeting. As we have no executive body, this being the first meeting, and I am modestly capable of putting words together, I ended up doing a lot of talking. Barbara and I had worked out an agenda the other day and we stuck to it quite well. The turnout could have been better, but it could certainly have been worse- there were a few new faces to my eyes so I count that as a plus. I was to introduce myself at this meeting, a task I took very seriously as the group disbanded 3 years ago due to distrust and an opaque organizational structure. I think I did well judging by the nods and knowing smiles at my insinuations of past versus present. I stressed that I am here in Beeston Spring for two years solely to get this group functioning, and I will not take that task lightly, nor will responsibility be abused or transparency compromised while I am doing my job. Next, I facilitated a SWOT analysis (strength, weakness, opportunity, threat) of farming in Beeston Spring and was disappointed when the opportunities section prompted no participation. Perhaps they just need inspiration.

In the end, while I think the meeting was productive, I am not sure how I feel about my own performance. I think I may have come off as too passionate and too outspoken. At the end of the meeting I was relieved to not have to hear my own voice, to not have tidal waves of emotion rolling out of my mouth. This mostly pertained to the last part of the meeting- a discussion about turning the plan I drew up for the demo plot into a diorama type display for the Denbigh Agricultural Show the first weekend in August, an annually huge deal for ag in Jamaica. Some persons were hung up on the time and energy and money it would take to create while other more silent participants had voted it a good idea (some protesters even voted it a good idea). As we discussed details, such as materials and whatnot, I was on a completely different wavelength as the protesters, making for a rowdy discussion for a solid 20 minutes (this discussion including a lot of “Adri, you don’t understand”s which made me feel as young and inexperienced as I actually am- cue sinking feeling in my gut). I realized I may have been getting possessive of the whole idea and just as I backed off, the other half understood where I was coming from.

It’s gonna be a busy next three weeks. Time to find my favorite fuzz-face in my photo archive.

Finding Focus

This past week marked the end of Team Jamaica tourism training and the ability to articulate a brainstorm that had been rumbling in my subconscious for a long time, stemming from the inconsistencies with the demonstration plot plan that I’d been trying to rectify within me. A greenhouse had been promised to the community, courtesy of a funding agency slash stakeholder group, and while it was ‘supposed’ to have been started in March, we have recently come to find that the business plan is only now being written and solidified. Certain misgivings I have for the entire thing led me to pursue meetings with the agency liaison to no avail in order to iron out the finer details and better understand the intent of the operation. At the moment the plan involves a large and expensive structure to employ a few people and produce a large amount of vegetables to be sold to the nearby all inclusive hotel. Think like me and you’ll find a few bumps and misgivings in this plan as it relates to the overall community (particularly of farmers).

In order to save myself an ulcer so early in my service, I put the greenhouse out of my mind and asserted to my supervisor that there is more space on the land set aside as a Demonstration Plot, and that any outside stakeholder will take more interest in assisting projects if those projects are already being spearheaded by the community. Ideas for shade houses and seedling nurseries had been thrown around since before my arrival and I posed the idea that we should '”tun han mek fashion” (turn hand make fashion- make something out of nothing) and start building a nursery structure in the most low budget way possible. Bamboo structure and gutter system for rainwater catchment, seed trays out of reused plastic bottles, raised beds of old tires and as much donated material as we could muster. Because I love the idea of having a project I can wrap my head around, I have spent the week appraising the demonstration plot and drawing up a plan. I seriously regret never taking an actual planning class, not based on theory, in college. However, I have been repeating my favorite land use mantra, in so many words: “people won’t support a space if they don’t feel like a part of it” and so we will hopefully be working many community activities into the building of this space, including children and farmers.

Meanwhile, I have been balancing my days with work on the demo plot, home for lunch then back for CDC work. I open the CDC office and boys immediately come to the door asking for the football while girls sit beside me watching me work on the computer and unabashedly inspecting my hairline (why does my hair grow in front of my ears?), my ears (why yuh have so much bores?), stroke the hair on my arms (which is becoming silky and blonde as my skin tans) and trace the hummingbird which permanently resides on my back with their fingers. They also love to comment on how sweaty my face is and how many bug bites I have (yep, I’m super sexy these days). A few boys who like to just be around where I am like to hear me say things like a Jamaican, and they call me Agri, which I have no problem with: “Agri, Agri say ‘ah yah so nice!’” and a giggle fest ensues when I do say it. Sometimes I don’t if they’re being particularly annoying, or rude.

Ok I’m trying something new with the photos… I hope this works. Shots include the entrance to the plot, looking into the plot, right and left- the wood slats are the remains of an unfinished shed I took apart to start a compost space.

		The Demo Plot (right now) VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Also last Sunday we held free HIV testing at the container during the football game. It was an eye opening look into how the community handles personal health issues. Megan, a PCV who works with the health department in Sav-la-Mar was there and it was really nice to show her around, give her a rural experience and help her reel people in to get tested. She worried that the heavy rain would prevent people from coming to the game but I told her to be patient, people always come out for football. Sure enough, the rain stopped and the footballers arrived, closely followed by the crowd of spectators- who took a great deal of convincing to get tested. 

		Beeston Spring Gets Tested VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Since I’m trying out this new photo format I’m gonna throw in some photos I took a few weeks ago at the football match. They’re up on the Beeston Spring CDC FB page too.

		Football VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

The Jamerican Cookings of a Picky Eater

I’ve realized a few things since my last post (which I realize I posted on Friday, but I wrote it Thursday). 1) I ‘m good at compartmentalizing… until Friday. Seemingly a coping mechanism to get through the week, it does mean that by Friday I fall asleep by 9:30pm and don’t wake up until a solid 12 hours later. 2) I am absolutely overtaxing myself, whether that means physically or mentally, I have decided that I need to take a step, or two, backwards. 3) A solitary day with the combination of fresh produce, a hammock, a book, good music and a Red Stripe really does cure most, if not all, evils. Add a morning iced coffee in there and you’re golden. Even though I don’t have my own space, I find that withdrawing into myself, making my own schedule and finding my own spot (like under the almond tree in my hammock) is acceptable alone time. If I see people that I know on the street while at the market my day is nicer as compared to scheduling a meeting time that actually occurs an hour and a half later.

Lately I have been coming home too late to cook anything substantial, last night I went to sleep realizing that most of what I’d eaten all day consisted primarily of sugar- then I ate some sweedish fish (courtesy of my care package) and promptly fell asleep. When I do have time to cook, I either cook something familiar and therefore mostly American or try something new and fail. That’s not to say the something new is Jamaican either, the other day I tried a pasta dish with veggie chunks and a tomato/pumpkin sauce, then ruined it with an obscene amount of black pepper and it was decidedly nothing I’d ever seen or heard of before. I bought an avocado (here-on out I’ll be calling it pear, as it is referred to here) a few weeks ago and subsequently made more mexican food than I’m proud to admit. My dedication to vegetarianism is becoming more stubborn as the things I’m able to control feel further away, and my Jamaican family is NOT adverse to meat so today I resolved to buy Callaloo for the first time in my life.

Callaloo is a rugged, spinach-like green with thick stems and wide leaves. I am very particular about how I eat steamed greens, as the combined slimy and crunchy texture throws me off- you will never see me eat a mouthful of steamed greens without something else to accompany it. However, the combination of my Sweedish Fish dinner and the incredibly high nutritional content of Callaloo drove me to try it out. I also bought pumpkin, cho-cho (which I’ve also never cooked myself), Irish potato and carrot.

What I cooked tonight:
I started by cutting a wedge of pumpkin into chunks with the skin off and boiling them in salted water. I threw some Irish potato in there too, similarly diced and skinned.

Next, I prepared the Callaloo. I only made one stem because I’m only one person. The tough outside of the callaloo stem must be skinned- it comes off much like the strings of a celery stalk. The stem is tasty and is chopped, along with the leaves, in a linear pattern (like you might with spinach).
I minced garlic and scallion and added it to a pan of olive oil, let that soften up and then added the callaloo some diced carrot and a sprig or two of thyme. I also added a little water and put a top on the whole thing to let it steam. (salt and pepper to taste)

Meanwhile, I removed and separated the pumpkin and potato. I put the potato in with the Callaloo to cook more and mashed the pumpkin with butter and water. Initially I wanted it to be a sauce but realized that the callaloo was already a moist dish so I let the pumpkin stay the consistency of mashed potato.

Finally, I boiled dumplings in the same water I boiled the pumpkin with. Boiled dumplings are the most random and simple Jamaican food that I’ve taken to making. Combine flour, water and salt to taste until the mixture is dense and doesn’t stick to your fingers. Either roll pieces in a little snake or line to make a ‘spinner’ or roll a ball and flatten it out to make a ‘dumpling’. I put them in all of my soups and I made them tonight to balance the steamed greens texture thing.

Combine foods, add a Red Stripe and: Voila! Happy Saturday!

Adri’s Empty Dinner Plate- a phenomena rarely seen in nature.

I plan to follow up my feast with my new favorite fruit, the sweet sop, once I digest a little… IM SO FULL.

The flavor of sweet sop reminds me of a honeydew melon, except they’re easier to eat- just part the skin along any one of those little bumpies, the inside looks like a fleshy version of the outside, almost every bump has a seed surrounded by the fleshy fruit. Just bite, spit and enjoy!

Stabilizers on the Rollercoaster

 

This week has been a roller coaster of gut tightening frustration/confusion and self assured contentment. The contract signing event marked the beginning of “Team Jamaica” Community Tourism Training starting this week, which I am “auditing” for the benefit of the 10 Beeston Spring attendees. Sitting quietly in the back of the air conditioned room while attendees learn about the history of tourism, service etiquette and cultural history, I use the internet to catch up on emails and update the Beeston Spring CDC facebook page (Beeston Spring Community Development Committee… ‘Like"’ it!). I mill around the room during group work and presentation preparation to help and offer input and I generally frustrate myself by thinking too much and writing random thoughts and lists into my notebook. I also take photos and videos.

 

Computer illiteracy is a surprisingly larger barrier than I had previously anticipated- It’s hard to ignore the incredible resource that the internet provides and even though I live on a fairly steep learning curve, I sometimes feel intellectually un-stimulated without my regular and thorough dose of treehugger.com, huffpost and general newsfeed (not restricted to facebook of course). To do so means to wait for hours as the internet loads each page slowly but surely- I keep my time brief and utilitarian. I was pleased with the cyber reaction of my updates to the CDC page however and excitedly explained how many notifications flowed into our inbox as I added pictures and events.

 

At the risk of sounding too publically exasperated, my idealistic and personal goals are at odds with situations arising with the agriculture group. I want to support the projects that were already in the process when I arrived but what does one do when the project that will be consuming much time and energy may not be the best option for the community? Meetings with outside bodies regarding the funding and fulfillment of this project have been continually canceled and so my understanding of the details are still not confirmed. I am in conflict on many planes.

 

On the plus side, Wednesday was overall a successful day. The safety and security officer, Ann, visited me- my first outsider visit! Also she came with a HUGE package from my family (ie Momma). The whole thing was pretty rewarding. It was a pleasure seeing a staff member, to chat and eat sweet sop (delicious fruit related to sour sop) on the veranda and let her into my new life. Wanting to see my workplace, she drove us up the hill as I hung out of the window to say hi to a few persons I recognized on the way up. I pointed out where each district started and told her what I knew about the community. She said that she was very impressed by my integration and involvement with the community so far which surprised me… I am simply doing what I came here to do! Going back down the hill, I had her pass my house to visit Barbara since she’d never met my supervisor. Astil, Barbara and other community members were all at the house, giving Ann a very good image of my life and the people who share it. It was a pleasant time chatting together on the porch and I like to think Ann was reluctant to leave.

 

I returned home to open my package and find all SORTS of goodies, a book about urban farming I’d started just before I left, a French press, MY HAMMOCK, some clothes and other goodies I’d asked for (and some I hadn’t). A hand written note from Mom furthered my happiness as I imagined my next day off- Reading and swinging in my hammock with a cup of iced coffee. Any knots of frustration disappear just thinking about it. Ahhhh my stabalizers… will you send Lucy and some home made sauce in my next package mom??

 

Wednesday ended with a very well attended, 3 hour long CDC meeting. Talk about a roller coaster of gut clenching and calmness. I can’t even begin to detail it but there is lots on the horizon in the way of computer classes, summer programs for kids, CDC elections, a Talent Show and 50th Anniversary of Independence parade/ festival and an overall reorganization of the CDC. WOO! …Someone send me a Red Bull. (jk, I hate that stuff)

Anyway, I think I've been doing a good job compartmentalizing, unlike at home where things can tend to pile up and overwhelm, for some reason once I remove myself, it is not usually difficult to shake myself from any negative thoughts or feelings. A new conversation or setting wipes the slate clean and I am (usually) able to readjust my attitude. I’m ok with this.

 

That’s all from me I suppose, until next time, Bless up!