Things Are Heating Up

Blog
June 25, 2009

Today I wrote down a list of things I want to accomplish in the next week. My list is daunting. In fact I feel bad for writing this blog entry because I have so much to do. I'll keep it short.

I am beginning to love where I live. Mr Scotty my host is great. A little crazy but everyone is, especially me.

My Peace Corps Security Officer came by my bachelor pad today to check out my safety. I love Ann for a million reasons, for one, she’s really good at her job. She gets along with everyone and she must have a 6th sense when it comes to security concerns. I can’t tell if she thinks I am crazy or the coolest person she has ever met.

I have to stop here and tell you that my supervisor, who is also great, took back the fan she loaned to me. I am melting. Melting isn’t even the right word, I am dying! The hottest time of day, or what feels like the hottest time of day, is right after the sun sets. I walk a mile uphill from work, I eat a hot dinner, and come into my room. Normally I would put the fan on hurricane level and be fine but without it I am dying. I can’t open my windows to take advantage of the mountain breeze because there isn’t one at dusk and the mosquitoes come out in force. A new fan would cost me $3,500 Jamaican Dollars or about $36 US or about 4 and a half days of rent, gas, food, everything. According to my supervisor it is going to get hotter before it gets cooler but I don’t think I can afford it. I don’t look at the cost in terms of food money but in terms of trips to visit friends in other parts of Jamaica. For $400 Jamaican I can go into Montego Bay, for $700 I can visit Jerry the nearest PCV that isn’t married and doesn’t live at Fort Nox and for $2,300 I can visit Kingston which is all the way across the island (all round trip).

Today I think I earned a little respect from my community. I helped with the burial of one of the teachers I worked with. There were 3 buckets being used to transport cement to the grave site (the tomb is a cement box that houses the coffin). I volunteered to help and the guys thought it was hilarious to see a white person doing physical labor and they handed me the largest of the three buckets. I pretended that I could manage the monster but truthfully each step I took could have easily been my last. Where I would pour the bucket,a crowed of people gathered so I would pour the bucket and then walk away to the secluded gravel area and take in a few labored deep breaths. It was back breaking work but I happily did it for Ms. Wong.

Recently the power has been going out at night. It was almost story-like as I laid in bed reading a book by dim lantern light with a fire fly circling my room. But that story turned into a thriller. I almost killed myself and almost burned down the house because the Peace Corps issued lantern malfunctioned and all of a sudden began spewing out clouds of smoke that probably is still coating my lungs.

I think I might be addicted to adventure now. My next planned adventure is to walk along the deserted train line to the next town that is 4 miles away through the deep brush. I was told by a child at school that this was very unsafe. When I asked why he told me a goat or donkey would kill me. I laughed. But another child said that some people that live there are crazy and don’t like strangers. This is actually a concern. If you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, talk to the train people.

Michael Jackson's alleged death (I said alleged because if Tupac is still a live than Michael Jackson for sure it) illustrates how news travels in Jamaica. A Jamaican probably had cable TV and he told someone and that person told a Peace Corps Supervisor, that Peace Corps Supervisor told a Peace Corps Volunteer that Peace Corps Volunteer told another Peace Corps Volunteer that Peace Corps Volunteer told me, I told my supervisor, and my supervisor told everyone we walked by on our way home from work. Clearly I don’t get a lot of news out here. I have been trying to make the point of copying a lot of online news articles on my flash drive so I can read them when I get home.

I said I would keep this short but I forgot. I was called for dinner and when I came back I just felt like typing.

Today in Mo-bay I sat on the sidewalk with a morbidly obese homeless man (you think if he was fat he could afford food and wouldn’t be poor). We spoke for 20 or so minutes. Tourists and Jamaicans alike walked by looking in disbelief and a blue stripe even stopped and asked me if the man was bothering me. It’s amazing how some people (including the homeless man) really just want someone to listen and when you do listen their stories are usually even more amazing. - -