A week ago, I walked through a rain forest in Montego Bay, following the secure steps of our guide, Jaheim. In between checking the pathway, so I wouldn’t tumble into the depths of the water below, I peeked through a grove of bamboo trees, vines, and other leafy structures to welcome golden sunshine through its canopy. Here is where dreams are born.
After days of basking in the Caribbean jewels of Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Cozumel, it’s a challenge to refocus on editing, the most disciplined demand for any writer. Each time I sit before my laptop and stare at a chapter, my mind drifts back to an enviable existence we visited far, far away. Why engage in this battle? I’ll give in, this time, to resistance, and share an impression. Maybe two.
Jamaica is a funky place. If nothing else, an excursion there reminds you that Jamaicans are crazy-happy people! How can a Jamaican ever suffer from stress, even depression? Think of this: if he’s having a challenging day, all he needs to do is step outdoors, view Montego Bay Ocean, and grab an herb or plant from the yard to soothe away his blues. Make no mistake, there’s an unbelievable assortment of plants, beyond the obvious crop, to choose. Jaheim treats us to an adventure-filled afternoon: first, he plies us with white rum and a pink frothy juice before driving madly into the hills in search of a dazzling waterfall.
We stop along the way to pick up a friend of his. A Georgian woman in our group asks, “Why is he joining us?”
“He’s security,” Jaheim says. “Ya, mon.” A huge belly laugh follows. She looks worried. I offer a shrug. Sometimes it’s best not to ask.
Our open-air vehicle, that’s seen some wear and tear, plows up a bumpy dirt road to a mountaintop, so we may admire the best view of the crystal teal water encircling Montego Bay’s coastline. We chug more white rum and frothy juice served by “security” from a container in the back. And enjoy a lengthy plant tutorial, a demonstration included. Ya, mon.
By now it’s time to say a prayer, so we stop at St. Mary’s Anglican Church, which oversees what remains of Montpelier Plantation. Here, a huge slave revolt unfurled nearly two centuries ago. It took an additional 100 years after that event for Jamaica to gain its independence from Great Britain. The church is still an active parish, has been since 1847.
Halfway down the mountain, we stop for a snack: ripened bananas, which melt in your mouth before you have a chance to chew. As we park along the roadside, no one notices two heavily armed soldiers walking our way. Except for our guide who immediately demands our peels. That’s when “security” kicks in; Jaheim’s friend talks with the armed men. We don’t understand a single word. It is now obvious why “security” is riding with us. We clear the checkpoint and are on our way to the rainforest.
More bumps and dips. We pass grazing cattle and folks watching the cattle graze. Eventually, we stop and follow Jaheim down into an area of heavy tropical plants. Here, bamboo grows with abandon. Finally, we spot the waterfall sparkling, splashing from high above. Eventually, its water flows into a stream that joins a lazy lagoon. Nothing rushes in Jamaica, not even the water.
St. Mary’s Anglican Church watches over a mountaintop near an abundant rain forest lush with bamboo, palms, and tropical treasures.
Our final stop takes us to a locale to sample local delights like marinated Jerk Chicken and more Jamaican rum. We’re reminded, again, of the Jamaicans’ passion to share their culture and their love for life with all who visit. We talk.
“Were they checking for drugs back at the military stop?” asks one of our passengers. Jaheim laughs. “No, guns. I can’t legally ship you the best weed in the world, from my Jamaica, but Americans ship their best weapons here. Illegally,” he says. “Not good.” We learn the gun flow from overseas still empowers gang members living in Montego Bay. It’s an image Jaheim would like to dispel. But a reality he cannot control.
He asks only one thing of the Americans he spends a day getting to know. When you return home, tell others about Jamaica’s beauty: both across its landscape and within its people. It’s worth any risks, either real or imagined, to visit a stunningly gorgeous place. And learn of a people’s colorful culture, firsthand. Ya, mon. Inna di morrows: No problem. See you tomorrow.
