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Ah, Negril. Recipe (how to make a "Negril"
: Start with a gorgeous beach location. Add these imported ingredients: Plenty of holiday tourists, a smattering of sex tourists, and a handful of psychologically unstable longer-term visitors who have dropped out of western society, either temporarily or permanently. Then add these locally-grown ingredients: Hoteliers, restauranteurs, shop owners, and employees of the above from the surrounding rural countryside. Then add plenty of these fresh locally-grown ingredients: peddlers, beggars, hustlers, scammers, thieves, drug dealers, and prostitutes. Mix, and cook in the tropical heat until done. Serve hot and spicy next to a bonfire on the beach, accompanied by live reggae. Welcome to Negril!
So I'm sitting at Alfred's watching this human feast. And that old Third World song comes on, "Human Market Place". How appropriate. And my eye is drawn to one of those young gorgeous lithe women with her smooth brown skin dancing sensuously to the music. I'm in the mood, so I give in to temptation and take her back to my room. What happens in Negril stays in Negril, to borrow a saying about somewhere else. Ah, the delicious wickedness of the place, I think. "Are you a prostitute?" I ask her. Fake shocked look - "na mon, mi be a nice girl from up pon dem hills". Yeah, and I'm the King of Sweden. "Mi jus come wit yu cause mi like you" she says. Yeah, and because I have plenty of Benjamin's in my pocket. So anyway, we have a nice time, and I toss a couple of those Bens her way, and she go back to the party, and I go to sleep, and life is sweet. Until I discover the next morning that her talents also extend to lifting all rest of the money out of my wallet with her quick little fingers... Welcome to Negril!
Next day I take a boat ride, and I am chatting wit de boat-man. "Must be a nice life. Maybe I'll buy a boat and move here and do this" I say. "Na mon, yuh na waan fi do dat" he says. "Why not?". And he tells me his story, about how at first he parked his boat in the harbor, and the $2000 (US) engine was stolen. So he buys a new one, and hires his friend to sit and watch it all night... until one night his friend is shot dead, and the engine is stolen again. So he buys yet another one, engine that is, and now every night, he has to take it off the boat and haul it in his truck and lock it in his home, and each morning haul it back and put it back on. Not an easy living. Welcome to Negril!
So I get back to the hotel, and the security mon him come up to mi. "So, you gon tek care of mi?" he asks. "Excuse me?" I say. "You know, give me money. I'm here to protect you. Negril's a dangerous place, and sumptin could happen to you..." he says. "Umm, are you threatening me?". Ah, the irony of it, the hotel security guard... Welcome to Negril!
And on and on... Nuff said!
Really, I love Negril... as a place to visit. I keep going back. That's why I'm a ... Jamaicaholic!
Irie,
AJ (Anonymous Jamaicaholic)
: Start with a gorgeous beach location. Add these imported ingredients: Plenty of holiday tourists, a smattering of sex tourists, and a handful of psychologically unstable longer-term visitors who have dropped out of western society, either temporarily or permanently. Then add these locally-grown ingredients: Hoteliers, restauranteurs, shop owners, and employees of the above from the surrounding rural countryside. Then add plenty of these fresh locally-grown ingredients: peddlers, beggars, hustlers, scammers, thieves, drug dealers, and prostitutes. Mix, and cook in the tropical heat until done. Serve hot and spicy next to a bonfire on the beach, accompanied by live reggae. Welcome to Negril!So I'm sitting at Alfred's watching this human feast. And that old Third World song comes on, "Human Market Place". How appropriate. And my eye is drawn to one of those young gorgeous lithe women with her smooth brown skin dancing sensuously to the music. I'm in the mood, so I give in to temptation and take her back to my room. What happens in Negril stays in Negril, to borrow a saying about somewhere else. Ah, the delicious wickedness of the place, I think. "Are you a prostitute?" I ask her. Fake shocked look - "na mon, mi be a nice girl from up pon dem hills". Yeah, and I'm the King of Sweden. "Mi jus come wit yu cause mi like you" she says. Yeah, and because I have plenty of Benjamin's in my pocket. So anyway, we have a nice time, and I toss a couple of those Bens her way, and she go back to the party, and I go to sleep, and life is sweet. Until I discover the next morning that her talents also extend to lifting all rest of the money out of my wallet with her quick little fingers... Welcome to Negril!
Next day I take a boat ride, and I am chatting wit de boat-man. "Must be a nice life. Maybe I'll buy a boat and move here and do this" I say. "Na mon, yuh na waan fi do dat" he says. "Why not?". And he tells me his story, about how at first he parked his boat in the harbor, and the $2000 (US) engine was stolen. So he buys a new one, and hires his friend to sit and watch it all night... until one night his friend is shot dead, and the engine is stolen again. So he buys yet another one, engine that is, and now every night, he has to take it off the boat and haul it in his truck and lock it in his home, and each morning haul it back and put it back on. Not an easy living. Welcome to Negril!
So I get back to the hotel, and the security mon him come up to mi. "So, you gon tek care of mi?" he asks. "Excuse me?" I say. "You know, give me money. I'm here to protect you. Negril's a dangerous place, and sumptin could happen to you..." he says. "Umm, are you threatening me?". Ah, the irony of it, the hotel security guard... Welcome to Negril!
And on and on... Nuff said!
Really, I love Negril... as a place to visit. I keep going back. That's why I'm a ... Jamaicaholic!
Irie,
AJ (Anonymous Jamaicaholic)
I aspire to be one a dem! 
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