Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

[Tiger Eye]

I dreamt I was in Jamaica but it seemed to go on longer than most dreams! First I was wandering around looking for a place to stay, then I was at Selina's eating escovitch fish and before I knew it I was... at a soccer match in Orange Hill, riding on the back of easyrocksue's scooter, miles from shore fishing in the sea, riding in vintage mercedes driven by a rasta, being woken up by an alarm clock and mongrels, painting the front of easyrock internet cafe, doing handwash, shopping in the hot afternoon sun in SAV, singing gladys knight with barry in his yard @ 6 AM, hiding away in a peaceful cottage by the sea, in betwix (between) a yard quarrel, playing dominoes, laying in a hammock under the stars, showering outside, sobbing uncontrollably in a taxi and on my verandah, and flying over jamaica & watching the whole island turn into a huge head of broccoli!!

and these are only the parts of the dream that i remember because it was all a blur and went so fast!! the strangest part is when i woke up, i didn't know where i was and i looked across the room and saw packed suitcases!!!! What the ----?

~ journal entries soon come!

BLESS,

Rizla

[Verallo]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

That's a dream to dream everynight! [img]/forums/images/graemlins/laugh.gif[/img]

[Tiger Eye]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

DAY 1

[9:46 am] The scene is all too familiar. I’m en route to Jamaica for Trip # 16. Being into my own fake version of numerology, I think that’s good. (6 + 1 = 7, my favorite number) Already I’ve lucked out on this flight. Like countless times before, being a lone traveler I get asked to move so that a family can sit together. I have ended up with the spacious emergency exit aisle to myself. Some of you may recall that the same circumstances three trips ago landed me next to Bad Boy rapper Loon.

For the first time in years I’m not flying American Airlines, and more importantly, not stopping in Miami. I was overall more impressed with Continental’s breakfast. This is always an issue for me. And while it’s A LOT better than what American serves, I still can’t eat it. Again there’s more sugar in the boxed meal than I eat in a month. I drank the milk and broke out my salted cashews. Following a strict hypoglycemic diet is easy now but always a challenge when I travel.

The flight to Mobay always gives me the opportunity to reflect upon my life since my last trip. It seems as though my trips are dividers for my life, in the way that birthdays and New Year’s Eve are for most people. Trips to Jamaica give me pause for reflection and the chance to put my life at home on hold for a short while. It’s been an interesting nine months. I’ve struggled to get parts of my life back that were stolen from me almost one year ago. I also gave birth to rizwear and experienced all of the joys and hardships of motherhood. All of it has been a test for me, culminating in the ultimate facing of my fears. There are specifics of this year I’ve chosen not to share for personal reasons, but it’s important for me to purge on some level. I do this for me and hope that those that read it keep an open heart/mind. I share a part of myself with you as a form of therapeutic expression that I find helpful for moving on.

As I play “Round Here” by The Counting Crows on my Discman, my life rewinds some three years ago when I met an electric and passionate woman who fast became my best friend. We would listen to this song constantly. I was drawn to the darkness of this song and “Maria,” even if at the time I didn’t understand either of them nearly as much as I thought I did. The song makes a whole lot more sense now, and it is with profound sadness that I realize how prophetic it turned out to be. I lost my best friend almost one year ago and I miss the person I met ~ the one that made me laugh, inspired me, and the one I tried desperately to save.

Maria was a warrior with an amazing energy and ability to draw people in. She was far more talented than most people and yet I always knew she’d never make it. There was a price to pay for her intensity – the price was her life and everything and everyone she loved. Now that she’s gone it is easy for me to glorify our friendship and for those that didn’t know her to vilify her actions. Bearing a striking resemblance to her, combined with guilt by association, I became the walking ghost of Maria, a fate hard enough to deal with without my own feelings of anger, guilt, grief, and confusion. The song tells the story best*.

My last trip to Jamaica was to escape this traumatic experience. It was a blow to admit that it didn’t work. I unknowingly packed all of my stress and anxiety with my boxers and bandannas. No matter how fast I tried to run from it, it was my shadow and not even Jamaica could fix it. I had my fleeting moments of peace but felt that Jamaica let me down. I go back now feeling closer to healed and relatively calm. It is an important trip for me to close that chapter.

[8 pm] As most first days go, I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. Customs and immigration was a breeze and Juta left after I freshened up in the bathroom. I would say that I was going to be lucky for the week judging by how the day was unfolding. I spoke too soon.

I arrived at Negril Beach Club at about 1:00 pm. All I wanted to do was nap! I felt drugged on the second half of the ride. The young lady at the desk did not have my name on the timeshare list. The office was closed and I sat impatiently for the office NOT to open. I just wanted to settle in! My restlessness overcame my exhaustion so I walked down to Coconut’s International and Barry’s for warm greetings all around. Having a bad feeling about my timeshare reservation, or lack of, I asked Barry if my room was available. It is Easter weekend so the two big rooms upstairs were taken. I sat with Shorty to catch up and fill up on food and water in order to keep going.

I headed back to the Beach Club to find my suspicions were right; there was no reservation. After many calls to RCI and home, I was in the same predicament I was in when I first arrived, only more tired. I knew I had to find a place but I wasn’t sure which direction to go in. A part of me was glad to be forced to try a new place, but the other half of me knew exactly what I wanted – my room at Barry’s. I started up the road checking out spots like Tamboo, Kuyaba, and swung by Selina’s for suggestions. She was not “home” so I headed back to Coconuts.

Ali decided to join me on my search…T-Water, Coral Seas, Beach House Villas, The Yoga Center, and Errol’s. Either they were booked, out of my price range, or didn’t have the vibe I was looking for. I wanted to go “home” and was too vulnerable to realize it or think clearly. I sat outside of the Beach Club and Ali tried to help me figure it out. I quieted my mind, wiped the sweat from my brow, and decided to take my bags to Barry’s. He didn’t have the room I wanted but it was home. Barry showed me two rooms and I chose the one with the sea blue/green walls. If I stay I’ll need to go shopping to give it a female touch. If I don’t stay it’s because Barry doesn’t accept credit cards and since I hadn’t counted on this, cash flow is an issue.

I didn’t unpack but I showered and rested on the clean tie-dyed sheets. I felt dizzy from the day and as hard as I tried to make a decision about whether or not I’d move to a new room or not, I knew I didn’t have to give it another thought. I joined Ikey, Ali, and [don’t know name] for a domino challenge in the yard. I have not played in nine months and I wasn’t focused but still managed to impress them. I don’t think they expected me to know the game and to be honest, I didn’t feel like I did for the first several rounds. We played in partners and Ali and I won.

Ali got a fish dinner from Coconuts and we shared it on the verandah with classic tunes spilling over from Barbbarn. Eventually Ali took the rap CDs I brought him to listen to in his yard because the last person I wanted to hear was 50 Cent. I caught up on my journal, gladly interrupted by visits from Kamoy and Shorty. Kamoy is more of an energetic conversationalist so luckily he came round for a visit earlier in the evening. My visit with Shorty was more relaxed. We would alternate between talking and listening to the meditative sounds of the tree frog symphony around us. My head was nodding back and forth and getting heavier by the second. I started trying to fight it at 9 pm but by 9:40 or so Shorty ordered me to go to sleep. I obeyed. I was concerned about my loud party-hearty neighbors** for all of two minutes before…OUT!

[** he comes in later as the “Screamer” from behind the bushes]

TOMORROW: Easter Sunday, Selina’s brunch, soccer match at Orange Hill

*song lyrics:

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air between the rain, through myself and back again. Where? I don't know. Maria says she's dying. Through the door, I hear her crying…Why? I don't know. Round here we always stand up straight. Round here something radiates. Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand. She said she'd like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis. She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land just like she's walking on a wire in the circus. She parks her car outside of my house and takes her clothes off, says she's close to understanding Jesus. She knows she's more than just a little misunderstood; she has trouble acting normal when she's nervous. Round here we're carving out our names. Round here we all look the same. Round here we talk just like lions but we sacrifice like lambs. Round here she's slipping though my hands. Oh, sleeping children better run like the wind. Out of the lightning dream Mama's little baby better get herself in out of the lightning. She says, "It's only in my head." She says, "Shhh...I know it's only in my head." But the girl on the car in the parking lot says: "Man, you should try to take a shot. Can't you see my walls are crumbling?" Then she looks up at the building and says she's thinking of jumping. She says she's tired of life; she must be tired of something. Round here she's always on my mind. Round here, Hey man, I got lots of time Round here we're never sent to bed early and nobody makes us wait. Round here we stay up very very very very late! I... I can't see nothing, nothing. Round here. (Ya) Catch me if I'm falling (Ya) Catch me if I'm falling (Will'ya) Catch me if I'm falling down on you? I said I'm under the gun. Round here. Oh man, I said I'm under the gun Round here.I can't see nothing, nothing Round here.

[Nanook]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

This is some GREAT STUFF Rizla!

I am so looking forward to more!

Thank you and please...

[img]/forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

[schultz]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Nice start to your report. Glad you had a nice time. [img]/forums/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

[stargirl911]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Rizla, great report so far more, more please [img]/forums/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

[geocox]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Rizla,
So far I would have gone nuts, hope this keeps getting better for you.
Geo

[Tiger Eye]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

It got better, A LOT better!!!! but the price of pure joy did not come without its disappointments. High highs and LOW lows!

[AngieB]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Rizla, it's been a long time since I've seen you post about home. I love your writing style and enjoy your introspection. To reflect on your life is always difficult when you have chosen to make changes as a result of that reflection beit difficult or easy. My heart feels for your loss as well. Loosing a friend to death or chosen departure is never easy. Jamaica is a good place to purge and heal if you can keep its lures into prospective. I pray that you found peace and enjoyment....and by all means...continue to post and perhaps a picutre or two [img]/forums/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

[ohliz]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Can't wait to hear the rest!

[Grandmother]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Your Reports/Journals make wonderful short stories. Thank You.

[Tiger Eye]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

DAY 2

[Time? – before bed ramblings on the verandah by candle light] Four Easter Sundays ago I discovered Barry’s at 6:00 am, looking for coffee. It seemed appropriate to be here this morning, up at 6:00 am, with a much shorter walk to the coffee. Barry was up from the graveyard shift and I’m sad to report that Officer doesn’t work here anymore. Poppy works later and won’t be making breakfast. The new breakfast cook is Lee but he isn’t around when I get up. I asked Barry for two eggs and in true Barry frankness, he announced that he did not cook. He allowed me to go in the kitchen to fry my own eggs.

This early morning gave us the opportunity to catch up and talk without distractions. We discussed American “politricks,” sex, and relationships. Soon Shorty appeared and began sweeping the yard and organizing the collection of bottle returns. Blue Eyes came from across the street, hung over, and charming as ever. It was entertaining, as well as educational, listening to him get into it with Barry since they’re both intelligent, not to mention on opposite sides of the Bush debate. I gladly sat there for three hours and could have stayed longer but I wanted to get to Selina’s Coffeebar & Eatery.

Shorty and I walked over to Selina’s for Sunday brunch. I thought I was running late but we were the first to arrive. It’s a good thing because I got to speak to Selina before it got busy. I gave her the sign I had made for her place. She obliged our off the menu request of snapper escovitch; I got it with callaloo and he with dumplings. It was delicious!! Yes, my second breakfast.

One by one, MANY boardies arrived. I won’t name them for fear of offending people by leaving names out. It was crowded and festive. I checked in on the chat but couldn’t manage the laptop’s lack of mouse so went back to mingling. It was great to be on the other side of the chat and hear the Overtakers live for the first time. Shorty and I left at about 12 or 1, stopping off for a bag of Sudsil and a few forgotten items. It started to rain on the walk back but the sun was out and I didn’t mind.

Without a plan for the day, I went to check Ali at Coconuts. He and Indian invited me to a soccer match just up the road from Jurassic Park in Orange Hill. I quickly showered, changed, and packed my netted backpack for all of my just in case items. It was still drizzling, and with dark clouds above I worried there would be a downpour. Indian said we would only stay a half an hour.

It was raining when we arrived so we made our way to one of the two gatherings under blue tarps; the second housed the music and drinks. Several fires were burning with fish and chicken cooking. I passed on the barracuda and opted for the fried chicken. (Yes, eating again!) We stood under there for what seemed like an hour. Once it stopped raining, the table and chairs were carried out from under the shelter and along the field.

For the next hour, I watched the men play dominoes and everything else going on around me since there still was no game to watch. (The noticeable increase in cell phone use between the last two trips is astounding.) Circles of men volleyed soccer balls as a large sound system blasted the “tunas.” The weather turned out perfectly. I stayed in the shade and it wasn’t too hot. The ice cream man came around selling cones from the back of his motorcycle. The rum and vibes flowed and wafts of Orange Hill High Grade encircled me. After a few hours, a match started, although it wasn’t THE match. After a 3-nil score, it ended after about an hour.

The sun was beginning to set and by this time the large field’s perimeter was filled with men, women, children, and a mongrel looking for scraps. I kept wondering when the teams were going to arrive since I was assured that the game was about to begin. I was amused by my ignorance when I saw the men that were hanging around drinking and smoking all day change into their gear.

It was the rastas vs. the bald heads. I asked the guy next to me who his money was on and he said the bald heads. (I wanted the rastas but kept it to myself.) After several requests, the music was cut off, but it wasn’t long before it returned without any complaints. Several hours after arriving, the match began. A man dressed in a black track suit, acting as the ref, blew the whistle and the bald heads got control of the ball. This was no indication of the better team; the Rastas won with another score of 3-0.

Just before it got dark, small birds swooped down closely around us. I thought they were bats but I was told they were swallows. By the time we got to the road to catch a route taxi back to the car park in Negril, it was 7 pm and dark. It was a beautiful day, without so much as a quarrel to be heard. I returned to my room with just enough energy to shower and clean the reddish cement-like mud from the bottom of my sandals.

The candle on my table is running low and about to burn out, and so am I. It’s still early but this was an eventful day by my standards. Good night…

TOMORROW: Easter Monday - riding on the back of easyrocksue’s scooter to explore the West End & the Half House

[Tiger Eye]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

DAY 3 ~ EASTER MONDAY

At some point in the night, the tree frogs and music were replaced by the sounds of the sea, owls, and dogs. I was woken up at 5:30 am by a knock at my neighbor’s door. As heavy as my eyes felt, I knew I couldn’t go back to sleep.

After writing in my journal last night, I retreated to my room, lit some candles, took a shower, and read in bed. The night was quiet and I was in my usual night condition: hopelessly unable to keep my eyes open. I gave in about 9:30 pm knowing that if I could stay up later I’d have a better shot at sleeping until at least the ripe hour of 7. No such luck. The quiet night didn’t last because the LOUD music went on from about 10 until midnight, maybe later. I drifted in and out of it. I’m a light sleeper but my fatigue fought it with everything it had.

I was in the yard by 6 am and greeted by a hug from Shorty. He took care of his morning chores and so did I. I cleaned the tables and chairs, removed the ashtrays, and made my eggs. Once upon a time this was the ideal time to walk the beach but it seems as though my legs agree with my eyes. Rest is the unanimous answer to this soon forgotten ritual.

[Time? The sun just set] I’m parked in my lounge chair, in front of the sea, and the sun just finished another beautiful job at setting. I’ve got a little time before the darkness sends me back to my room. Another Easter Monday is done and the many locals are making their way down the beach. Jamaicans outnumbered the tourists today.

Easyrock Sue came by Barry’s this morning around 9 am. We made plans yesterday to meet for breakfast and this time she came up the lane on a scooter instead of her bicycle. We talked for a bit in the yard until she suggested we go for a ride. I packed my net backpack, changed, and decided to eat some stew chicken before we left so I wouldn’t have to worry about food for at least a little while.

I printed out a post of Sue’s regarding Jackie’s on the Reef and brought it along on my trip because I wanted to check it out. She wrote, “There is nowhere like it in Negril.” She offered to take me so off we went on the scooter. It’s a few miles past the lighthouse and it is indescribably peaceful. The tranquility of this property is INSTANTLY calming. I met Jackie, got to see some rooms, and took a brochure for my sister. She is planning a visit soon and even if she doesn’t stay here, I will highly recommend it for yoga, meditation, or a massage.

[8 pm or so] I promised my sister I would check out places for her. She wants to be pampered, wants the place to be authentic Jamaican, and she wants to relax. Since she’s never been to Jamaica, I feel personally responsible for her loving the island, or at least understanding why I do. Sue brought me to The Caves and Tensing Pen. I was struck by how much nicer The Caves is compared to Jakes in Treasure Beach. After leaving I was convinced The Caves was what she was looking for, until I saw Tensing Pen.

We stopped by Home Sweet Home briefly, saw Pirate, and then on to a bar on the cliffs (Pirate’s Cave? Help me out here, Sue) It looks a lot better than the last time I was there, which was two years ago at my first webcast. Sue photographed me in my latest shirt for my website. (People requested Jamaican scenery and smiles. Hopefully we came up with something I can work with.) Our next stop was the Half House.

I know the story of how this house came to be and what it represents* but was struck by the sweetness of the purple and lavender house. Knowing Sue I shouldn’t have been so surprised at this art from pain. It is modest in size, amenities, and the conveniences that we are used to but it is bold in spirit and love.

We sat on the verandah and chatted some more. The view and vibes were soothing. For those that say they could never live in Negril have not been to the Half House. It was a treat to have Sue share her home and parts of her life with me. She’s strong, honest, and smart. I pray Jah blesses her with many happy years in her home.

By early afternoon we headed back to the beach because it looked like it was going to rain. It was overcast but the beach was FULL! Easter Monday is a beautiful sight to see. Sue and I said farewell and I promised to visit the new Easyrock tomorrow. I saw it today but it was closed.

A boardy asked me to deliver a letter to a friend so being I was up for a short walk up the beach, it seemed like a good time. I found him easily and headed back, stopping at an Internet café. I was overwhelmed by the 19 emails waiting for me. I responded briefly to a few and posted a little something on the board.

I got a beach chair and settled in with my book. The sun was about to set so it wasn’t too strong. I could have slept but just closed my burning eyes between chapters. Once the sun set and it was near dark, Ali invited me to join their little gathering. Jah B, Jacko, a group of Jamaican Englishmen, Indian, and a few cousins sat at a picnic table drinking and laughing. I laughed along at what I thought was funny (usually Jacko) and also at the patois I didn’t catch but their laughter was infectious. As the Englishmen headed to Mobay for their last night, the little party broke up so I headed back to my room.

I still hadn’t unpacked but by today I knew that I wanted to stay in my little room at Barry’s. I took the time to unpack and put my clothes in piles on the spare bed instead of the dresser because it had that musty smell that seems common here. At first I was worried that my little room was too small, didn’t have AC or TV, and wasn’t private enough but I was wrong. I don’t need the AC and don’t miss the TV. Being on the first floor and so close to the yard makes it easier for my constant trips back and forth. Budda’s work on the garden makes it plenty private.

After my shower, I went to the yard to eat the fish dinner and callaloo that Poppycock put aside for me. Barry joined me for dinner and the usual crew kept the chat lively. The rest of the evening will consist of a whole heap a nuttin’. My journal is up to date and now my book and bed a call me. The tree frogs are singing their lullaby…

TOMORROW: gone fishing, shopping in Sav, reunited with an old friend, the new Easyrock Internet Café, dinner @ Selina’s Coffee Bar & Eatery

*If you don’t already know the Half House story, email Sue at [email protected]

Is anyone reading this?

[queenb]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

Yeah, girl, I'm reading. [img]/forums/images/graemlins/laugh.gif[/img] Great writing!

[Nanook]

Re: Trip Journal: April 19-26, 2003

I agree with queenb, I am there....

Don't forget us tomorrow Mizz Rizla, I'll be looking! and Thank You!