I wanted to finish up my Jamaica posts with a few tidbits that didn't warrant an entire post. (If you are thinking that there are several posts that didn't deserve an entire post, you can bite me)

First, let me say that we as Americans are spoiled. You may all ready know that, but since I have now been to two other countries and have seen how people live in them, it has been confirmed. I don't think, however, that we have anything to apologize for. We should be thankful that we are blessed enough to have the things/opportunities/country that we do. I also don't think that the people in Jamaica are unhappy with their situation, which to most Americans would seem hard. For example, most if not all, of the people that live in Ridge, don't have hot water. Now, that isn't much of a problem unless you are a woman with long hair or a man. A woman with long hair has to wash it and then rinse it with cold water, very cold on the rest of the body. You are exposed to the cold a lot longer, than say me, with no hair. I can rinse much easier. That brings me to the being a man part. I'm not going to give any anatomy lessons, but you know that things on a man "disappear"when they get cold. Now, once the body warms up, they reappear, but we guys are literally and figuratively attached to them. When they are no longer there, we become concerned. Lets move on. Example #2. The electricity is, shall we say, not reliable. This may be a situation were it is normally always on, except for the week I'm there, can't say for sure, but we lost power on several occasions. While at Michelle's, it was warm, not overly hot, but warm. Now, as a spoiled American, I'm use to air conditioning, but that isn't an option in Ridge, they use fans. Again, I'm not 100% sure, but I don't think anyone has air conditioning in Ridge. This poses a problem for someone who is say, overweight, out of shape and who sweats easily. (Me) On Sunday morning we were helping get ready for the fun day, so we were out working and I was sweating. Just before it was time to go to church, we went in to shower. Well, low and behold, the power was off. I thought, no big deal, right? I can take a cold shower with no lights, there's a window in the bathroom, I'm adjusting just fine. I was slightly set back when I realized that the water is pumped into the house via an electric pump, which we now have no said electric in which to run said pump. Problem. Michelle provided us with a bucket of water that she was able to manually scoop out of the tank and all seems to be moving on swimmingly (I've always wanted to use that word) I'm showered and getting dressed when I realized I had a new problem, and no it isn't that I'm missing part of my anatomy, which I was. No, the new problem was, since the electricity was off, the fans weren't working either. That cold shower that had set my body temperature to a non sweating level, was now being forgotten by my pores and I'm beginning to leak like the Titanic. I'm trying to fan myself to cut off the flow, but with little success. I put on my light blue shirt that now looks like I played in the sprinkler and we head off to church. I'm not very comfortable with people seeing my bodily functions. I don't want anyone to see me throw up, or blow my nose and I have an irrational fear of people watching me pee, so I don't want people to see me and wonder if I just ran a marathon before church. Once we got on top of the hill, there was a nice breeze, so some of the leaking was cut off and was able dry off a little.

A few other things that would make life in Ridge interesting are, lizards in the house(this little guy was in the kitchen every night), the before mentioned cockroaches, dirt with the reddest tint I've ever seen, which I'm sure stains like no other, and the craziest political situation I have ever been witness too. I don't think I spent too much time on it before, but they don't have set election dates in Jamaica. I'm not sure what sets the wheels in motion to have an election, but when they decide, its only a month or so from the day they announce until the day they vote. Why, you may ask? Cause they will shoot your ass if you don't want to vote the way they want you too. I mentioned in an earlier post that there was a shooting in Junction and that some dude let two go outside my window. Now, in America, I don't know that there have been very many shootings based on your political position, unless you are a Kennedy, but I'm sure there have been some. If it happens in the States, you can bet that the person doing the shooting is a nut bag, but in Jamaica, I would say they are passionate. I'm not trying to say that it is OK to shoot someone for any reason, but you have to consider that the time to campaign is short, now add that it's a poor country that the people are trying to improve and improve their situation. You can throw in lots of other factors, I don't know what they all are, but since you don't know when the next election will be, you don't want to miss out on the opportunity to put your party in power. Politicians in America wish their followers had the passion, not the violence, of the Jamaicans. There were rallies going on in towns all around us and one day one of the parties came by the house in a caravan of 20 cars or more, all wearing the party color, orange. Here are some pictures (again, no idea why these are small again, Ive really got to figure out how to fix that). Lets just say that I wouldn't have wanted to be standing on the side of the road with a green shirt on that day. (Green was the other parties color) I heard the violence was much worse in Kingston, which is the capital of Jamaica. I would think the combo of a white American in either an orange or green shirt in Kingston during this time would have been like signing my own death certificate.

I also mentioned that we spent a little time in the hospital in Mandeville, now let me tell you how that happened. Here is a picture of Michelle and her machete, and a picture of her bandaged toe, you do the math. Just kidding, it wasn't the machete, it was actually a log, but the machete sounded so much cooler.(yes, I figured out how to make the pictures large again, but I don't know how to go back and fix the ones I all ready did, sue me) So we drive her to the hospital which was about 45 minutes away. I could be wrong on the time because I was busy watching my life flash before my eyes, so I was distracted. We had a near head-on collision that even had me nervous. We had been involved in some near misses before that didn't particularly scare me, but they were 20 to 30 feet away, which doesn't sound bad but figure your going 60 mph and that makes it a little closer. On the way to Madeville, we had a near miss of about 2 feet, I about shat myself (yes I said shat, its English, look it up) We arrived at the hospital to a sign that requested no shorts and proper dress. I was wearing shorts and I don't own anything that would be considered proper. It didn't appear to be a problem, they let us in. When we got to the door, we were met by Omar, who just happens to be Shirani's cousin. He works there and was able to get us to the correct desks for processing. I will say that the process was confusing. We stopped at a desk and Michelle described to a nurse her injuries (I know she was a nurse because she was wearing all white, including that little hat you see in movies form the 50's). Then we went to a booth in the lobby while Omar spoke into a hole in the glass that was bellybutton high, that lady gave us papers to move to the other side of the booth to another bellybutton high hole in the glass for Omar to talk to another lady. Then Michelle paid. Now she has paid, but hasn't seen a doctor yet, seemed odd, but it gets worse. She then goes into the office to be looked at, her toe not her, and from what she tells us, everyone got a shot to see, but no diagnosis. She then was told what they were going to do, so back out to the booth to pay again. Then, back in to actually have the work done. When they started to give her a shot, she found out it was for tetnus, which she was all ready good with. Back out to the booth for a refund. When it was all done, we had been there about an hour and a half, I would guess, I was still shaking from the car ride and terrified of the trip back in the dark. As soon as we walked into the lobby of the hospital, all I could think about was One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. If you've seen it, you will remember the nurses in white with the little hats and the whole place was white. That's how this was, very sterile, plain and kind of scary. Our hospitals in the US are starting to soften a little bit, adding color, plants and paintings. Not here, white, hard and cold.

We'll, I think I have exhausted my Jamaica trip. I have lots more in my head, but maybe I will toss that into other posts in the future. I hope I gave you a little idea of our trip and I hope you could pick out when I was kidding. We loved it there, the country is absolutely beautiful and the people were fantastic. We got to see a lot more of the country than most people who visit, not a lot of tours of the hospital offered with a brochure at the hotel lobby desk. "Honey, we can white water raft, ride a zip line over a canyon or visit the Mandeville hospital?" Tough choice. I did want to put a link to the hotel we stayed at, so here it is. http://www.elgrecojamaica.com/ Lisa had asked about our green bracelets from the picture with Troy. They are issued by the hotel to show you belong on the property, problem is, now everyone on the street knows where you are staying. In fact, when Troy walked up to me, he said "So your staying at the El Greco." Hard to lie with a bright green wristband on, screaming out EL GRECO!!!!!!

And finally, here is a picture of two babes I had the pleasure of spending 7 days with in paradise.

That never hurts a guys rep!

First Day of School

Today was the boys first day of school, so here is a picture of them before school and at their desks.Here is a shot of the whole family. Notice dad is the pack mule, once again.
They both seemed to love it, so lets hope that part stays. Lunch turned out to be interesting. Makiah said he couldn't find his sandwich, (It was in a seperate compartment on the bottom of his lunch box that I went over with him before school) so he only ate his cantelope, a bag of chips and a fruit rollup. The teacher must thing we are crazy for packing that lunch. Keep your fingers crossed that we finish our first week without a breakdown from any of the 5 of us.

I wanted to share my experience today at lunch that has brought up one of my pet peeves. First, the lady in front of me in the drive threw decided that she no longer wanted to be involved in our line, so she did an 80 point turn to get out. I was behind her, but had someone behind me, so I could get out of her way. Why she didn't just wait until the person in front of her moved and then just pulled away is beyond me. She then proceeded to try to get out of a 1 and 1/2 car width exit that some other lady had decided to use as a parking space. Now moron #1 had to do another 30 point turn to get away from moron #2 so she could leave. My question was, why would you sit in a fast food drive threw for who knows how long, just to pull away as it becomes your turn? Stage fright? Anyway, that brings me to the next thing that happened that is one of my pet peeves. When you are working the drive threw, don't ask me for my order if you have no intention on listening to said order and punching it into your little computer. This happens to me all of the time and it pisses me off.

Guy at drive up: "Hi, welcome to (blank), can I take your order?"
Me: "I'll have a burrito and a Coke" (nectar of God)
Guy at drive up: "Can you repeat that?"
Me, in my head: "What the hell, did I speak in a different language, how can you not get my order unless you are totally not listening"
Me, out loud: "A burrito and a Coke!" (a little louder and a bit of "holy shit, your a dumbass" attitude in my voice.)
Guy at drive up: "Do you want a cookie with that?"
Me, in my head: "Hell no I don't want a cookie, I want you to listen to my order the first time I say it, because you asked me for my order. It's not like I walked up to you on the street and ordered, guessing you worked for (blank), you asked me what I wanted through your little headset."
Me, out loud: "No thank you." Well, I don't want him to spit in my food, so I suck it up and take it. Nobody likes snot in their burrito.

I've worked in fast food and ran the drive through, I know how to do it. It isn't rocket science. You can't take an order while your sitting on the crapper in the back of the store, so either take off the headset when you go, so as to not be tempted, or just shut your pie hole until you are finished. (and you've washed your hands) Am I alone here or does that piss you off as well? I know it's a shit job, I had it, but if it is your job, try to do it like you know what you're doing. Maybe I'm always getting the new guy and he has absolutely no idea how to work a speaker, headset and cash register all at once. Maybe most people can't and I am a rocket scientist. Hurray for me!

I had to get that off my chest, sorry to interrupt the Jamaica updates. I'll work on more soon.

Just to let you know, I received an email from Michelle's mom and she had just spoken to Michelle. They are safe! She didn't know of any injuries to anyone in Ridge, but there appeared to be trees down, of course. I hope to speak with her tonight, if we can get through.

Again, please keep Michelle, Brooke and the rest of Ridge in your prayers. Dean is a category 4 and headed right for Jamaica. We spoke to Michelle last night and they are as ready as they can be. I'm sure we won't hear from her for awhile, since the power will surely be out and who knows for how long.

I wanted to write a little about the beauty of Jamaica. I wish pictures could do it justice, or that I knew how to take a damn picture. I have the knack of taking the most beautiful spot on earth and making it look like the alley behind a Denny's in a rundown part of some city. I did take this picture of a flower that came out pretty good. We also took several from a spot that Michelle knew about that won't be listed in your "Jamaica for Dummies" book. We were on our way to Lovers Leap when we pulled over on the side of the road, which you know from earlier pictures was a chore in of itself. We wound our way through a gate and over a fence and followed a little road/path past cujo, who was trying to tare us apart but could only get to within 15 feet or so. He was pulling on his chain and I had never prayed so hard that it wasn't a piece of crap that was "Made in China." We kept on down the trail, went around a building, down a little hill, through some plants that looked like if you bumped them, you would be making a trip to the Mandeville hospital, which we had visited just a few days before. (I'll talk about that later) As we got through there, I saw a concrete ramp, for the lack of a better word, which we walked up and saw this. OH MY GOD!!!!! What a beautiful place. In fact, it just may be one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, again, I wish the pictures showed just how beautiful it was, but they don't. The drop off from the edge of this concrete ramp to the beach was unbelievable. I wish I had the ability to judge distance, but that is another thing on a long list of things I have absolutely no skill at. I would say, if I had to guess, that it was probably 2 miles down. Wait, that can't be right, maybe it wasn't that far, but trust me, we were high.(No, I'm not talking about the weed again) There were several birds that were drafting on the breeze that made you wish you could fly like a bird, plus you could crap on a windshield which has to be one of the top 5 on the "Things a Bird Can Do" list. I've been attacked by several birds, not fun. I also had a friend in high school that had a bird that would always try to land on my head which totally freaked me out. I saw The Birds movie, I'm not letting any bird get close enough to peck me without a fight. Whenever I went to his house, I spent the whole time I was there ducking and weaving trying not to become a landing strip. Anyway, I digress, back to the view. The water was crystal clear. I so badly wanted to see a shark swimming in the water, mainly because there wasn't any way I could actually be in the water to become food, unless I took a wicked fall from this ledge and was able to roll through hundreds of the above mentioned plants that would rip me to shreds, causing me to bleed and then become that more attractive to the sharks. I just now realized how close I was to being eaten by a shark. Makes you realize how precious life really is.(Could I be more of a smartass, I submit that I cannot) I didn't see any sharks, or whales, or dolphins or even fish, but the fish would have been huge for me to see them from up there. Did I mention that it was high? This picture looks down to a rendering plant that is for bauxite(which is used in the production of aluminum), which is a mineral that the Jamaican soil is rich in. Just beyond that is Alligator Pond, which is a town that you can look up on the net, if you wish. After this little slice of heaven, we went to Lovers Leap, which is below, and had lunch. (I think I have all ready mentioned, but it bares repeating, food is always my favorite) I had garlic shrimp, rice with something in it which I hope was supposed to be in there, but I didn't ask. There was some of that slaw like stuff that we made for fun day, only this one had pineapple and mango in it as well. Then, there was the bread fruit. What the hell is this stuff? Who in the hell found this and decided that it was edible. It really has no flavor, but I would compare the texture to that of foam. Not Styrofoam, but that sponge kind of foam. I kept dipping it in my garlic sauce, but was thinking, if I have to smother something in something else, just to be able to stomach it, is it really worth eating? I don't eat brussell sprouts because the taste makes me gag, literally. I wouldn't put jelly on it just so I could get it down, I just wouldn't eat it. Just thinking about it right then made me throw up in my mouth, just a little bit. I mean, I'm glad I tried it, so I know what it tastes like, but if you send me any, I will treat it like a fruit cake and re-gift it. Mangoes, on the other hand, are great. I had never had a fresh mango until I had one at Michelle's. I don't know if it came out of a tree in Ridge, but it was gooooood. I had one in Montego Bay that, shall we say, wasn't at the level of the first one. Lunch was great and I was even surprised that Marcy ate chicken off the bone. If you don't know Marcy's eating habits, to say they are limited would be an under statement. A nice thunderstorm came in while we were eating, so here is a shot of Marcy and I on the ledge at Lovers Leap with the storm behind us. Marcy took several pictures of different cloud formations that were absolutely gorgeous, I've included them at the bottom of this post. We went to church on Sunday up the hill from where we were staying, at a school for the deaf. They have a little chapel and the view from up there was great. As we walked up, there were three ladies sitting out front that informed us the ministers car broke down, so he wouldn't be coming that day. One of the ladies asked me if I wanted to preach, so I broke out my Bible and started my "Your all going to hell" sermon, it was a big hit. Yeah, right. I laughed and said, "I don't preach" and hoped it would end there, which it did. She was laughing, so I don't think she was serious, but for a second, I was a little scared. Other than these three ladies, Marcy Michelle and myself, there were two other people attending church that day. It was a great little service. We sang some songs from a hymnal, which I haven't done in a long time, read from the bible a few times and had a few prayers. It was fairly short, but very nice. The ladies sitting behind me were belting out the songs, so I sang quietly as to not disturb. That reminds me, we went to see Casting Crowns in concert the other night and I had an older lady sitting next to me. If you have never been to a CC concert, they put the words to their songs on the big screens they have to encourage everyone to sing. I like it, even if the person next to me can't sing, its kind of like we are all there for the same purpose and all sing together. Well I found one issue with Stevie Nicks sitting next to me. Not only could she not sing, but she couldn't read either. We're all singing "What if the armies of the Lord, Picked up and dusted off their swords" and I hear her singing what sounds like "It's crowded in worship today, As she slips in trying to fade into the faces" which is from two totally different songs. The good thing was, this was my great seat. I don't think it was possible to be more behind the pole, unless your face was actually smashed against it. I have a few more things to write about, then it will be time to get ready for my mission trip to New Mexico in Sept.

Quick note, please keep Michelle, her roommate Brooke and the rest of the community of Ridge in your thoughts and prayers as hurricane Dean approaches. The path appears to be heading right for them and it's at a category 3 as I write this. Pray the winds subside and the rains don't do too much damage. The electricity is unstable as it is, this won't help.

Michelle, stay safe!
PS-I have Dr. Pepper waiting for you!

For those of you I haven't told, let me tell you a little story about the fun day at Ridge. A little setup on Ridge, its a little community in the mountains in Jamaica, where our friend Michelle happens to be living. Basically, Ridge is several houses scattered around, connected by a "road," for a lack of a better term. I know you have all been down country roads, and know that they can be narrow. Now imagine an even more narrow road with a cliff on one side, and no guardrail mind you, and a mountain on the other side. Not a lot of passing room in that picture, see actual picture. Now, when coming over the top of a hill or around a corner, you can't see if anyone is coming. Luckily, the Jamaicans use their horn to warn people they are coming. (They also use it to say hello, how you doing) My assumption from my life in the states, is that a horn was only a warning that a finger would soon follow. I'm not sure I have ever used a horn without anger involved. Sure, maybe as a kid I used it to say hello to someone, but I wasn't actually driving in traffic, so that doesn't really count. So, when the Jamaicans come to a corner that they can't see around, they give a little honk, nice. The good thing is, even if someone forgets to honk, you are only going 15mph because the roads have potholes the size of Volkswagen's. I use a Volkswagen as a size reference in a lot of things, you'll see it later when I talk about the cockroaches, no shit, I was afraid to fall asleep. Anyway, getting back to Ridge and the fun day, the community was using this day as a fund raiser for their community center that they are working on. It was held on the Monday we were there, and consisted of a bounce house for the kids (they call it a bounceabout), a bar, a dominos tournament, a cricket match, food (always my favorite), and a dance (always my least favorite). I went down to the cricket field which was interesting in itself. There are trees on the field. That seemed odd to me. I've been to a couple of Major League Baseball games and have yet to see a tree on the field. I've even seen a cricket match on TV, and, no trees. Not to mention that these are mango trees, so there is fruit on the ground. I just don't think the players, of any sport in the US, would tolerate food on the field. I see a Three Stodges skit with guys slipping on rotten mangos when I think about it. So I'm sitting on the ground watching this match, which I can't really follow even after Michelle and her friend Sharani taught me some. I've got the basics, but there were some things that confused me. Like when the pitcher, or bowler, threw the ball at the guy with the "bat" and actually hit him. Now if someone hit me I would complain, as would my team mates, but the team in the field complained when the batter got hit not the guy that just got plunked. I finally found out that the team in the field was complaining because they thought the batter was blocking the "plate" so as to not get his wickets hit (you're just going to have to trust me, it makes sense)(Oh, and wickets are not his balls, just to be clear). As I'm watching, I get a wiff of the old skunk weed, mary jane, you know WEED. Every concert I went to for the hairbands of the 80's, I ended up next to Joe Marijuana and his entire wasted family and it appears this is no different. I had always heard about Jamaica and its weed, but man oh man is it weird to see that many people doing it in the open. I'm watching the match and having my ankles treated like a chew toy for the ants, when it thundered so loud I nearly crapped myself. I guess I've never been in the mountains during a thunder storm, but since you are either closer to the clouds or in some cases in the clouds, it would stand to reason that it might be a tad bit louder. It rained a little bit but since most of the Jamaicans weren't in any hurry to get out of the weather, I just sat there and kept watching. The rain and or storms come out of know where, in fact, it rained several times with the sun shinning and not a cloud in the sky. It must suck to be a Jamaican weatherman, how do you predict rain when it isn't even cloudy? I enjoyed some fried chicken, rice and peas (peas are actually pinto beans, or at least that is what they looked like. (See picture at right and I have no idea why that one is so small), and some sort of slaw that Marcy, Michelle and I actually made. The food was good, but I was interested in the other options of the day. They had curried goat, goat soup and fish, you know, the kind where they leave the head on and cook the whole thing. The problem I have with that, is I don't like my food looking at me. I'm all ready doing the most disrespectful thing, stabbing it and eating it, I don't need the guilt on top of it. You wouldn't eat a cow while it was looking at you, would you. Sorry Marcy, the visual probably has her gaging. The DJ showed up and set up these massive towers of speakers, which were of course pointed right at the windows of the house we were staying in. I asked Michelle how long these parties go and she said 3 or 4 in the morning, I was hoping it just wouldn't be Yanni music or some sort of country Reggae. It turns out, some of the music is American songs that they just kind of Reggae up, not bad. The only problem is, they never finish a song. The DJ always stops the song right when I'm getting into it. Have you ever been singing as loud as you can and either you go under a bridge or some how the music just cuts out, and there you are yelling a song with no real musical talent? That's me, only Reggaed up. The American songs were all love songs, so I wasn't able to sing many, but I knew what they were. Every now and then, an old Motown song would come on and I would think I was Smokey Robinson, but when the DJ changed the song in the middle, I was brought back to my William Hung self. (I hope that wasn't too obscure of a reference) The party went on into the night. I went by the dance after dark and everyone was standing around the outside of the dance like an 8th grade dance at school, only the boys and girls were mixed. The only people on the dance dirt (I said it was outside didn't I?) were two very wasted gentleman who were still partaking of the material that had wasted them. It seemed the whole day was a success and I was happy to witness and even help a little. We retired to the house to, well not sleep, not with three speaker towers pointed at my bedroom window, but at least a relaxing Reggae evening. So I'm laying in bed reading my book, which is "Can I keep my jersey" by Paul Shirley, an ex Iowa State basketball player (Hilarious!) when I hear "POP POP." Now I'm no expert, but that sounded like gunshots right outside my window, and it ain't hunting season. Well, I tried to seem brave as I scrambled to the other room to see if my thought was correct, which it was. Now I'm in a foreign country, probably the only white guy within a 100 miles and I hear gun shots outside my window, a tad unsettling to say the least. Like I said, the community had been nothing but kind and accepting to us, but once you get a few beers in even the Dahli-lama, all hell can break loose. Nobody seem to concerned about the shots and Sharani (this is her in the green tank top, she is awesome) came in and told us all was fine. I heard two stories regarding the reason for the shots, one which I think is true and one I think was to calm the white people. The first explanation was that the DJ had said something positive about one of the political parties, then, he said something positive about the other party. Problem was, Wyatt Earp didn't hear the second statement and thought his party had been dissed, so he let a few fly in the air. After witnessing and hearing about the political violence that occurs, this sounded reasonable. A woman would be shot just a few days later in the town of Junction, which is where we bought groceries and were there the same day as the shooting. The second reason we heard the next day was that people always shoot guns at parties in Jamaica. Well don't take me to any more parties where gun play is not only normal, but expected. Those bullets have to come down, you know. Well everything was fine and once I changed my pants and wiped the tears from my eyes, I went back to reading my book. I'm just glad someone didn't close a car door or something like that the rest of the night or I probably would have had to change the sheets and would have spent the rest of the night on the floor with the lizards and cock roaches. (Don't get me wrong, the house isn't dirty and the roaches are few, two in fact, but I swear they were 3 inches long and that is big enough that it should be mentioned) Well that is about the extent of the fun day. In all, I was extremely glad I was able to see the community of Ridge come out and have a good time. The laughter at the cricket match was awesome, except I couldn't understand what they were laughing about because they speak Patois (because I looked it up), now that I think about it, there did seem to be a lot of "whitey" in their conversations (joke). There were several occasions where people we drove past could be heard saying "white people." (that is no joke) Here is a picture of some of the kids we met at fun day. The girls are Celina and Rav, sisters. I'm not sure who the boy was, Michelle, is it CJ?

Well, I want to start out by saying that we had a great time in Jamaica. I am not a writer, so the things I try to explain may not be as clear as I had hoped. Feel free to leave me any questions you want in the "comments" section, not sure how that works, so you can email me and I will try to be clearer, you won't hurt my feelings. Also, if I am mistaken on any of my statements, Michelle, please set me straight. I don't want to pass any incorrect information. That being said, lets get to it.

The first thing I thought I would write about was Rastaman Troy, who we met on our first night in Montego Bay, which was actually our 6th night in Jamaica. We were walking from our hotel with Jimmy Buffets Margaritaville ( http://www.margaritavillecaribbean.com/index.php) as our dinner destination for the evening. We, or should I say "I" was stopped by a man with dreadlocks who asked where we were headed. I knew he had an idea where we should be going by his tone, so I said we were just out for a walk. He was attempting to get us into his bar/resturant/store that we were currently in front of. Since I'm not good at lying anymore, I was great as a kid but have since lost the skill, I tried to stick to my story, but I was getting the feeling that he wasn't buying what I was selling. He told us that we should spend our money with the only Jamaican owned place on the street we were on. Again, I stuck to my story and we told him that we might stop in later. He let us go, reluctantly. Michelle reminded me that I need to ignore people and just keep on walking, but it's really hard for me. I've learned that lesson in two other places, the market in Juarez Mexico and in the Bahamas. The time I was in Freeport, Bahamas, I was walking from the tourist area with some friends when a lady approached me and asked to put beads in my hair, don't laugh, I used to have enough hair to do that. Since I was raised to be polite, I looked her in the eye and said "no thank you." Well damn if that wasn't the wrong thing to do. This lady broke into a sprint to catch up with us, where she continued the question/begging. I think it had to do with the eye contact, because everyone was telling her no or ignoring her completely, but she chose to chase me. Needless to say, I didn't get the beads, but there was a lot of "no thanks" to follow the first one. Flash back to last Thursday night and we have now left the Rasta's company and continue our trip to Margaritaville. We had dinner, took some pictures, I have included one of Marcy and Michelle with their heads in a big sharks mouth, which wasn't real in case you were wondering (smartass). We have one with my head in it, but you can tell by the look on my face that I wasn't into it, so I posted this one instead. Now, we are done eating and need to head back to the hotel, right past the Rasta's bar. I figured, were on the other side of the street, so we should be able to slide right by. I'm guessing that you all are smart enough to realize, if that plan had worked, I wouldn't be writing all of this. That would be a lame ending if I just said, "so we walked by, he didn't see us and all was well." No, the truth is, not 20 feet out of the resturant, I hear "so you went and spent money with the rich people." Now, I had two thoughts, (1) run like hell, maybe even scream like a girl or (2) deny, deny deny. Here are the problems with both of those. I'm overweight and out of shape, making running a bad option. I'm guessing that when I passed out after a half a block, he could catch up with me. I'm pretty sure the screaming would draw little attention, other than a curious shop owner or street businessman (I mean the pot sellers, more on that later). Plus, Michelle did a nice number on her toe on Sunday, so I'm guessing that my sprint would be solo. I'm pretty sure that leaving 2 women on the streets at night is high on the scumbag scale, so option number one was ruled out. (2) This sounded like the easiest way to go, but there were several problems with this one. First, I mentioned that I have lost my lying ability, not totally, I can still lie to the kids about some things (Santa, Easter bunny and so on), but for the most part, not my strongest ability. Second, he just watched us walk out of the resturant. I could say that we were looking around, to see if we wanted to swim there the next day since they have a water slide from the resturant to the ocean and a few other fun things, but that again would go back to my lying. Plus, we are now in possesion of a doggy bag and two plastic cups with the name of the resturant on them, clearly visible, even to a pot smoking rastafarian. The response I decided to go with was to stare at him like I didn't speak english and hope he went the other way, no such luck. I'm not sure what the conversation was from there until we agreed to go to his bar the next night, which seemed to pacify him. He was shaking my hand, and looked me in the eye (nothing good comes of that move for me) and says, "I'll take you for your word." Now if that wasn't a challenge to a mans honor, I don't know what is. Marcy and I discussed and decided we would go on Friday night. The only problem with this was, we wouldn't have Michelle with us, which was my safety net the whole time we were in Jamaica. She always took care of us, led us to the right resturants, stores and hooked us up with the great hotel we were at. I wasn't sure we wanted to try the resturant, but I knew we could hit the bar and I could have a Red Stripe, a beer made in Jamaica which I have had in the US and have been drinking while in Jamaica, but wasn't sure they would have anything Marcy would drink. I was affraid my one beer purchase would not be enough, but I was going to give it a shot. Friday night was here and I was looking forward to the trip to Troy's Reggae bar, he told us his name after the last encounter. Marcy and I walked down the street, located the bar, walked through the alley (usually not a good sign of a bars cleanliness/safety, but hell, we're in a different country, lets not hold onto sterotypes) We go up the stairs to the rooftop bar, where Bob Marley is playing on the stero. I like Bob Marley, what of his music I have actually heard, so I felt a little at ease to here a "feel good" song playing. We didn't see Troy, but we sat down, I ordered my Red Stripe and we saw that they had a little bottle of Mudslide, which Marcy and Michelle had been drinking that week, so Marcy was able to order. I turned around and who was walking onto the roof, Troy. He looked up and saw us and I saw a person who was surprised, but actually glad to see me. I stuck out my hand to shake his and he damn near broke my hand when he grabbed it to shake it. The first thing he said was, "I took you for your word." Good memory. He gave Marcy a hug and I was glad we had decided to stop by. He sat and talked to us for awhile. He taked about his "Moms" who raised him, his father wasn't around, (more on that subject in another blog post). He turned out to be a really nice guy and his bar will be the first place I stop next time I go. If you are ever planning to go to Montego Bay, let me know. I will tell you how to get there, you won't be disappointed. I have also enclosed a picture of us with Troy and ask you to do the following. Look at the picture and think about what you see, not just a picture of the three of us, but look closer and see if you see it? Give up? This is a picture of Troy hugging Marcy like they are old friends (or more) and a big dumb white guy who squezed in the shot. Can I look anymore out of place than I appear in this picture? I submit that I cannot. We finished our drinks, told Troy goodbye and headed out for dinner. I was a little afraid of Troy when we first met, but as the old saying goes, don't judge a book by its cover.

Just a quick update for now, we are back. I have a lot of stories and pictures to share, so check back soon. I hope to have the first thing written by today, but I'm still trying to settle in, so it may be tomorrow before I do. Here are a few topics I will write about:

Jamaica the beautiful
Troy the Rasta man
Michelle's life, what I saw of it
The community of Ridge, where we stayed
Politics in Jamaica, what little of it I saw scared the shit out of me
"Was that a gun shot" and "Do we need to be concerned"
The food, my personal favorite
Have you ever played chicken at 60mph, every time you left your house?

I know I'll think of a lot more. The trip was great and the people were awesome. We stuck out like a sore thumb in Ridge, but the people were welcoming and even talked slow for us, since when they spoke to each other I rarely understood anything they said. When they spoke to us, they always slowed it down so we could understand what they were saying. It sounded French to me when they got on a roll, the language just flowing out so smooth. We took a lot of pictures, but they will never do this country justice in regards to its beauty. I'm off to get the boys lunch, check back soon.

Love,
Mark

A quick note before I hit the plane for Jamaica in the morning. We had what was my biggest fear in getting ready for this, childcare collapse. Marcy's sister was to watch the boys for 3 days at the beginning of our trip and told Marcy last week that she couldn't. Marcy went into scramble mode and was able to find backups. Our friend Cathy is staying with us tonight, taking us to the airport in the morning and then staying with the boys until Saturday night. Then they go across the street to stay with a neighbor for a few nights until Mindy gets them to take them to Altoona for a few nights. She then takes them to our friends, Joe and Mindy, to finish out the week.
I must say, that even though I all ready knew this, it reminds me of how good it is to have family and friends that you can count on. There was no hesitation from the people we originally asked and when the shit hit the fan, friends stepped up. I can't tell you how much better I feel being able to leave the most precious things in my life, to people I trust. I know they will be looked after and they are really excited about going to all of their houses. I wish mom was here. I hear all of my friends talk about leaving the kids with grandma and grandpa and would love to be able to do that as well.
I'm going to "try" and post pictures from Jamaica, or at least blog from there, so keep an eye out to see if I can.