CityGirl

It’s 7:30pm and I’m lying in my living room, watching tv. I should be out of the house and at UWI but I’m tired. Damn tired of studying. I left work a little late today and got in about six bells. I told myself that I’m just going to rest for an hour because it’s not a good idea to leave work and get straight into studying. I tell myself that I’m just chilling awhile to unwind so that my brain will be more receptive to what I’m going to put in. In reality I really just wanted to watch the two episodes of KING OF QUEENS that start at 6:00pm and ends at 7:00pm.

Then I tell myself that I have to stay and watch the 7:00 news on TVJ because it’s always a good idea to know what’s going on in the country. I know it’s just finding excuse not to leave. It feels too good just lying here.

Oh Gosh, Iranian President just challenged Bush to a debate on World Issues. Everyday there’s another standoff. I can’t stand it.

Speaking of Bush, I can’t believe that terrorist Sheikh Abdullah El Faisal is going to be deported to Jamaica. Lawdhaffmurcy on us. As if our gun-toting criminals aren’t enough, now we have to worry about terrorist threats because we’ll have our own soon to arrive, fresh from England, in-house terrorist. Why is it, when the wretched people leave our ‘peaceful’ isles and go else where and learn their wickedness and get caught, they end up back here. Double damn!!!! Our tourism sector has been benefiting from the terrorist action around the world because the caribbean is still seen as safe. With the caribbean now finalizing preparation to host World Cup Cricket in 2007 what better opportunity to hone the skills he learnt overseas.

And what’s with these Jamaica-affiliated terrorists anyway? Before we could even digest the news that fast on the heels of 9/11 there was another plane-related terrorist attempt, we bombarded with the news that the ‘Shoe Bomber’ was Jamaican. Jamaican by means of a Jamaican father.

Ok, it’s 7:54 pm, let me head for UWI. If I wait until 8:00 I might see something interesting about to start on tv.

It is almost 3am but since I’m too worried to sleep I might as well blog. The most worrying thing about living in Jamaica right now is the crime situation. The events of tonight (or rather this morning) speak directly to that.

A little past midnight I was awaken by the persistent ringing of my phones. I checked the number and realized that it was one of my young relatives who was calling so I called her. Apparently, she had been trying to get her mother who had gone down to Montego Bay to visit relatives and wasn’t getting through. Finally, at about midnight, her mother answered the phone and in a hushed tone, told her that she can’t speak to her because someone was breaking into the house.

Apparently on reaching the house Montego Bay about 11pm, going through the gate with her daughter she was held up by some gunmen who demanded that they hand over their phones and money.

I have not been able to get the entire details but somehow they were allowed to go inside the house safely even though they had seen the faces of the gunmen. It would appear from the events that unfolded later that the gunmen returned to correct that error. The house is situated in one of those crime-ridden areas in Montego Bay so I really don’t understand why they even decided to go to the house at that time of the night.

The gunmen returned to the house and made several attempts to gain entry. I was told that they seemed to be hammering the door with something in an attempt to break it down. During this time, my family huddled in terror in one of the rooms in the house. After it appeared that the men were about to gain entry, they started screaming for bloody murder at which point they men left.

After I spoke with my relative (who was apparently too distraught to think straight and call the police before even calling me) I called 119 and reported the situation. Now that whole situation of the police itself needs an entire post. I wonder about the training they receive, if they are coached on how to deal with the public (or their jobs in general), and the procedures/system in place to deal with calls to the emergency number.

The first person I spoke to was ok, asked all the right questions about address, phone number, etc. I called back to provide additional information about the address and was answered by apparently one of the minority that causes the police to get a bad reputation. After relating the situation again because he said he wasn’t aware, didn’t hear anything about it, I asked if he will be dispatching someone immediately. The man, quite insolently asked me what I thought he should do. Upon answering that I think he should dispatch someone forthwith, he asked “Well, why yu asking then?” and hung up. I thought my question was quite pertinent, since I’ve heard all these horror stories about calls to the emergency number. You hear of cases where on contacting the police people are told to call back later, no vehicle is available to go to the scene etc. I don’t know how true this is but I’ve even heard of police upon being called, complained that the caller disturbed their viewing of a particular soap on tv.

Well, I called the police station that is nearby the house and spoke to someone who assured me that they were advised and someone had gone by the house. Now, if I explained that the family was holed up in one room, terrified and fearful that the criminals would return, why would the police just cruise past on the road instead of going to the house, looking around, speak to the occupants to ensure that they were safe?

Jeez, as I said before, I really wonder about the training that they receive. Honestly. On calling back I was told that the patrol vehicle drove past by the house and didn’t see anything. If the darn people are inside dead, what would they have seen, just cruising past. I shouldn’t be the one to explain all this.

My father lived in Canada all my life. He had diabetis and quite frequently would go into a diabetic coma because sometimes he just didn’t take his medication. In addition to hustling to Canada everytime my cousins call me frantically to advise that he’s in the hospital, I’d call from Jamaica frequently just to check in. I remember calling one day and couldn’t get in touch with him and had worked myself up to quite a state just worrying. I called my mother in the States. I don’t know how this work but somehow she was able to contact the police in Canada (she said she called 911 from the States) who at 1:00am went to my father’s house, and knocked him up and ensured that he was ok. Why can’t I get that type of service here in Ja? People might say, well, that’s a first world country, but shouldn’t we be making strides in that direction?

I don’t need to attend Police Academy to figure that if there are people distressed and fearful for their lives, I can’t just cruise past in my patrol car, not see any obvious signs of distress and assume all is well.

Anyway, I insisted that they return to the house. They did, alerted my family that they were outside, looked around the house and ensured that no one was lurking in the vicinity, and promised to patrol the road.

The police is one of the public sector groups who are currently agitating for more pay. I have no quarrel with that, but can we the taxpayers who are funding the salaries see some good service for this. As I said before this really requires another post, but everytime I have cause to deal with the police I wonder is there any serious attempt to effect some changes?

What a weekend it has been! Typical of life itself, where one moment things are going well, and then another moment, all hell breaks loose. I always say, life is like a pendulum, and the darkest hour is when the pendulum is swinging away from you so during those challenging times, you just need to be patient and wait for the pendulum to swing back your way.

So check me out on Saturday, laid up in bed with one of my migraines and without a morsel to eat. No, it’s probably not as crucial as it sounds since I doubt I’ll ever be in any danger of starving to death. However, this weekend I found myself in a position where I had no ready cash (read no money I could get at the ATM) and no food at home since I’ve only been using home to bathe and change. I’ve really been living at UWI these days. So to borrow a term from Jamaican Queen, I was broke like a bad joke this weekend. Not that I needed money for much, just to put gas in the car, and put some food in the fridge. It was fine though, I have relatives just around the corner whose fridge is always open to me. However, with a migraine on a rampage, I really wasn’t inclined to leave my house so I just basically grit my teeth, beared the hunger and the pain and prayed for sleep to claim me.

Then comes Sunday. Normally, I’d give some money to the security guy from Saturday night to purchase Sunday’s newspapers from the paper guy who passes by about 5am and I’d pick them up from the guard house at about 7am. I was suffering too much to even walk to the gate last night, so I got up this morning, groaning at the thought of having to go on the road to get the papers myself. When I saw that it was raining, this only added to my distress, but I can’t not have the papers and I have to read them early. Can you imagine my delight when I neared the gate and was stopped by the security who happily advised me “Miss Gela, mi have de paper dem yah so.”

“You have both o dem?”

“Yeah man, dem deh ya inna de guard house.”

That was a beautiful start to the day. Later in the morning while going through the papers, a steaming cup of ginger tea at hand, my neighbor called to let me know he was going to Hellshire. I told him to bring back fish and festival for me. About 11:00am a male friend/ex-co-worker dropped by with his girlfriend and step-daughter who was visiting from the States. Nice little lyme, still no food to offer my guests. At this point the only thing I’d consumed were several cups of tea, a bag of cashew nuts, and some Milky Ways which I shared with my guests.

At 1:00pm another friend called to ask if I wanted him to bring around some sweetsops he had for me. I told him to come by about 4pm. By this time, it’s raining again and I had no intention of leaving the warmth and comfort of my house. I just prayed that I wouldn’t get another headache. Friend came by about 4:15pm with a bag of 8 big sweetsops. I haven’t had sweetsop in years. He was kind enough to take me to my relatives where I was loaded up with chicken, bammy, irish potatoes, ripe bananas, more cashew nuts, rice. I now had enough food to feed the entire apartment block. Soon after I got back home, my neighbor returned from Hellshire with fish and festivals. Later, I knocked on his door to offer him some of my sweetsops as a Thank You for the fish and in return, was given a big ‘ole Julie mango. Can life get any better?

So you see, yesterday I starved, today I’m having a feast.

Just as I thought that the day really couldn’t get any better, I got an email from a friend who writes a weekly column in one of our local papers, advising me that he has an invitation for me to attend cocktails for the launch of UWI Mona Academic Conference, themed: Writing Life, Reflections by West Indian Writers, where I’ll meet some of our caribbean writers, namely Derek Walcott, one of two Nobel Laureates from the caribbean who will be there. Oh Joy!

I came across a blog called ‘On the Verge’ Well, I’m on the verge of doing something unpleasant. I feel like hauling some some old tyres and vehicles and blocking the road, walk up and down with placards until the government does something, I feel like starting another gas riot like the one we had here some years ago.

If I have to drive on my road for another week with all those craters (they can’t be called potholes anymore) I’m going to do something very drastic. My road has been in that terrible state since Hurricane Ivan (back in 2004). There’s not just one, there are several very deep potholes on the road, so I do a motorised version of hopscotch each day. I swear, the only reason I haven’t disappeared in one of these craters so far is because I drive a big-ass truck. What galls me is this, every time there’s some ‘important’ person visiting, whether it be the Pope, or the Queen or her relatives, roads that smoother than my balcony floor are overhauled and ‘fixed’ if the person is going to be driving on it for two seconds. Yet I can’t get a decent road to drive on every darn day. It’s enough having to deal with high gas prices, why do I have to deal with other unnecessary expenses that comes from driving on these bad roads. You know, the cost of shocks, suspension joints or whatever the hell is affected when your vehicle drops into one of them.

I’m trying to remember if any country that I’ve visited had holes these sizes or any at all. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, I don’t recall seeing potholes in the other caribbean islands that I visited. I pay my taxes, is it too much to ask for decent roads to drive on?

My rant is over.

Funny isn’t it? There are times when I have so many things to blog about and not enough time to do it. I find myself walking around with a notebook on the different things that I observe that I’d like to comment on. Yet here I am, totally empty. Not that I feel under any pressure really, I use this time to read other blogs and discover ‘new’ ones.

I suspect that this ‘dry spell’ has everything to do with my state of mind. I’ve started studying again for this professional exam that I’m supposed to be sitting in the States in November. I’m scared shitless! I’m really very worried about it. I now live at the UWI (University of West Indies) campus on a part-time basis. I leave work at 4:30, go home and watch two episodes of King of Queens (the absolutely funniest sitcom on tv right now - watch it!) and then head to UWI where I stay until 1:00 am sometimes. The worrying thing is this. I have been working some problems and so far I have been averaging 71%. That is totally unacceptable since the pass-mark is 75%. I wouldn’t be so worried if it was just one subject, but to master two subjects by November 30th is quite a tall order.

So now I have no life. I go nowhere, I speak to no one. I’ve allowed myself to remain with only one indulgence. I go sailing two Sundays per month to Lime Cay, lyme with friends during the sail, eat, chat, anchor the boat, swim to the Cay, eat some fish, lyme some more, swim back to boat, then head back into Kingston. Very de-stressing. Well it’s supposed to be. Sometimes dolphins swim alongside the yacht while we sail. Nice. Yesterday’s sail was stressful as hell though. Got sea-sick. All the moorings were used up because every single boat owner in Jamaica plus their boat owner friends from the rest of the Caribbean decided to sail to Lime Cay yesterday so we decided to drop anchor. Only thing is the anchor kept dragging, maybe because the persons handling the anchoring activities were all neophites. The expert (and boat-owner) was directing operations from the back while steering. Whatever. No swimming ashore for us. No fish, no lyming on the beach. Quite a disappointment as the water looked absolutely inviting. Glistening. Aquamarine. White sand beckoning to us. It wasn’t to be so had to bear the sickening rocking of the boat some more, while my stomach protested, until we pulled up at Morgan’s Harbour to get a dip in the swimming pool there. Terrible sail, but my only indulgence now until November when I resume living again.

I absolutely hate professional exams. They require too much discipline. Something I’m not endowed with. With a professional exam you have to know every damn thing in the syllabus. I hate that. So it means my normal modus operandi of studying a week before the exam (as I did when doing my degrees) won’t work.

But I have to pass these exams. Even though I’m no longer very interested in the field. I can’t abandon it now though since it will feel like unfinished business. If I get this out of the way, I’ll try and find something that interest me.

Or maybe I’ll just enjoy the fact that I won’t have to study anymore and can read novels instead of damn boring manuals. Maybe. Let’s see. Let me get this out of the way first.

All this recent extended discourse, online and in the local papers about the value of the local dialect and how we can show that it’s respectable and an accepted variation of the ‘official’ language without compromising our children’s ability to become conversant with the English Language have me thinking in general about languages and how we communicate (That’s quite a mouthful I know).

Is it right then for anyone to denigrate other country’s equivalent of our patois? I’m just thinking about the way people communicate globally. If we (quite rightly) conclude that patois should be recognised for its cultural relevance and uniqueness, does anyone then has the right to degrade or speak disparagingly about other country’s ‘local speak’ or variation to the ‘official’ language?

Just to illustrate my point - let’s look at the USA. I know quite a few people regard ‘american speak’ as the way ‘uneducated black americans’ express themselves. Y’all (that’s an example) know the kind of language that I’m referring to. Afterall some of us are guilty of using it at times. So ‘aight’(all right) and ‘yo’ and ‘ho’ (whore) and expressions like ‘his/her ass had better……….’ should just be seen as another way of expressing oneself. Right?

Maybe we really shouldn’t put anyone in a box based on how they speak. When you think about it, it really doesn’t necessarily indicate level of education nor intelligence. Yet we’re all guilty of doing that. I have bloggers in my blog-roll who blog predominantly in patois and they are all are all degreed professionals.

Personally, I alternate between standard english and patois depending on the situation because of the stereotype which I know exists. Example, if I have a complaint to make about the poor service of an organization and I demand to speak to the manager/CEO/Head of Department(as I’m wont to do) I know that the chance of me being referred to the head honcho depends on part how I sound. If I sound reasonable educated, manager will think ‘Oh, she’s at my level, she might be ’somebody’ let me speak to her.’ However, if I stop by the roadside to buy a coconut jelly from the goodly rastaman, I might say something “Whappen brethren, yu ‘ave any cold jelly deh?” I do wonder now though, if that’s not being condescending and just as stereo-typical as everyone else. Truth be told, I don’t speak to the roadside rastaman like that because I have doubts of his intellectual capacity, I really do it because I love communicating in patois sometimes (it’s quite liberating), I get a better response when I come across as being ‘real’ which might result in me procuring the product at a cheaper price
We Jamaicans all know that telling a good Jamaican joke has to be done in patois in order to capture and relate the nuance and essence of it. Quite possibly, an American is able to do a rant more effectively in ‘american speak’ - we all therefore use language to our convenience.

Uhm, ahem, at the risk of being stoned, villified and accused of all kinda bad things, let me ask what ah know dat plenty parents want to ask but not saying anything.

Ah just wondering, you know with this new surge of nationalism and renewed appreciation for de local vernacular in the wake of the passing of the iconic Miss Lou, uhm, when de pickney dem chat bad (beg pardon, ah mean use the local dialect), we nuffi badda correct dem and tell dem fi chat proper Henglish?

Not dat ah don’t agree wid what everybody seh, ah tink dere really is a place for we dialect. When me was inna England studying fi mi Masters and haffi chat the Queen’s English day in, day out, without a break because the english people and the student dem whose native language wasn’t english wouldn’t understand, mi happiest time was when mi sistren dem call and bawl out pon de phone “Gal, yu a study? Mek sure yu nuh fail, yu nuh!” What a nice reprieve me get when dem call. Yu wouldn’t undastan how good that felt.

But ah just wondering now if we nuffi correct de pickney dem becausen seh ah notice how everybady, from uppa class to middle class to bottom ah de class, all de people dem who usually reprimand de pickney dem (er, ahm, ah kinda including meself in that bunch) to “speak properly”, is wha wi mus tell dem seh now? especially the sensible-ish one whe hear we a laud we dialect?

Mi ago feel kinda cute, not to mention hypocritical telling mi God son (as ah usually do) dat him must speak proper when last week me and everybady in Jamaica and de diaspara was saying how is bi-lingual we bi-lingual. Me haffi go whispa tell him to chat good, cause mi nuh waan nubady tek mi hawn.

Jus’ kinda wondering still how to proceed hence forth……….

What unnno tink?

One of the things I like about blogging (I’m sure you all got the message by now, I love blogging) is the fact that you can feel so inspired by total strangers to make changes in your life. I think this is such a beautiful post. The author wrote about focusing on the positives in our lives by looking at the nice little things that happen to you on a daily basis. Key word - little things. Isn’t that wonderful? So to take her advice, this is the positive nice thing that happened to me today.

1. The system administrator at my company told me to bring in my personal laptop for him to look at it tomorrow. I have a company assigned laptop that I now use at work and home. The thing though is I miss having my own laptop because I feel like I need to be really careful about the sites that I visit. So I haven’t visited any raunchy sites in a while because I’m convinced that somehow it will be transmitted to the company’s network (even though I’d do this at home). Am I being silly? The fact is I have no money to fix my laptop right now or replace it so some free advice for starters from him is definitely welcome.

Independence Weekend:
Well, it’s the last day of the long holiday weekend and I’m here chilling at home (as I’ve done the whole weekend). I think I must have gained a hundred pounds from all the junk that I’ve consumed. Yesterday alone, I had a whole tub of chocolate ice-cream, in addition the several packs of chips and other snacks.

Sunday night, I watched Sunsplash highlights on tv and felt a twinge of regret that I didn’t go afterall. But still it wasn’t a wasted weekend. I managed to tear myself away from the tv for a few hours to get some important work done.

Well, it’s the last public holiday until October when we’ll have Heroes Day. The bum in me wish that there was a public holiday or two each month. But that would be too much productivity lost.

This morning I heard the 2006 festival song playing - I think it’s called Bring back the old time Jamaica. It’s a nice little song and I thought I’d go online and look for the lyrics. So I typed in ‘Old Time Jamaica’ and came across this gem of a post by Dr.D. I was so pleased by both the blog and the comments. It seems appropriate that I found it today, Independence Day.

Blogging:
Speaking of blogs, was reading some blogs yesterday and thinking about the whole blogging phenomenon. I don’t know how long this is going to last (will I be blogging in my 60’s thirty years from now?) but can you imagine that there will be a permanent record of your thoughts. So in your 70’s if you’re still able to see, you might be able to look back on your thoughts back in the days. I wonder what life will be like then. Can you imagine too that those poor children who lost their parents early might be able to get to ‘know’ their parents by reading their blogs? Well, maybe not since most people keep their blogs a secret.

No more ‘old time’ cartoons?:
I’m here now channel surfing and notice all these cartoons that are strange to me. That brings me to something else, don’t they have the cartoons of old that I loved as a youngster and even as an adult anymore? I’m referring to Tom & Jerry, The Jetsons and The Flintstones. I remember years ago while working at this particular company, I use to go for lunch at 1:45pm just so that I could rush home and catch the Flintsones (2 episodes at that) which came on at 2pm each day.

Happy Birthday dear Jamaica.

You’re certainly getting on in age. Can’t believe you’re now 44! Wow! For a tiny island, you’ve made some serious strides boy (or are you a girl? hmm, I wonder). What I like about you is that you put so much energy into things that you get involved in and so you’re relatively well-known. Unfortunately, you’re known for the bad as well as the good. So yes, you’ve made your mark in the world of sports and you have the fastest man in the world now (Asafa Powell). You’re known for the warmth and talent of your people, your beautiful beaches, and of course the pulsating reggae music. But you’re also known for the notorious ‘yardie’ gangs, and drug mules. I guess I have to take the good with the bad, but it’s really not nice being circled by sniffer dogs when I disembark from a plane coming directly from Jamaica. I don’t get that treatment when I’m coming from another country. I remember while studying in England, my university mates from the other caribbean islands complained that everytime they tell someone (a non-West Indian) that they’re from Trinidad, Barbados (or wherever they’re from) the person would enthusiastically reply “Oh yes, I’ve been there. Isn’t that the town next to Kingston?” I remember also while in England, during our independence celebration, BBC Tv did a week long feature on you. I remember feeling so proud, that big, big England rated us so much that an entire week was dedicated to us. It brought tears to my eyes and a big lump in my throat then.

But you know, I wish you’d grow up in other ways too. The other day I was online checking on your literacy rate and was shocked to see that it was among the lowest in the region. If I remember clearly it was like in the high 70’s when everyone else seem to be in the 80’s and 90’s. And shouldn’t your leaders get it together by now? Why is it that the people entrusted with your finances squander it so? You’re too old to use that old, worn out excuse of ‘youthful exuberance.’ Why is it that you still do not have enough jobs so that more persons can live in a dignified manner-especially when they have invested much in education?

Oh, I don’t know. You’re probably going to say that I’m being hard on you - afterall even though you’re no longer on the cusp of adulthood, you’re still a small, small island. I know you’re going to say that other big countries have similar problems. I guess I’m being like my mother. When I was a teenager and pointed out to her that the other parents were allowing their children(my friends) to go partying she’d say “I don’t care about what they do, you’re my child and I love you.” So it’s the same thing here, I complain because I care.

Anyway, let me not spoil your special day by giving you a lecture. Like the typical birthday celebration, you put aside the negatives and enjoy the party. Let me focus on the many things that I love about you, the things that I missed and dreamt about during the short period that I was away. The things that make you so very unique, things that us Jamaicans laugh about and say, only in Jamaica. Like the fact that I can pull up to a roadside vendor and get the sweetest jelly coconut in the world and probably some sugar cane to go with it. Or the fact that we turn anything into a profit making business - hence the rise of the ‘rent-a-dread’ that’s so popular among white female tourists. There are so many things to love about you, the vibes, the energy, the language, the people.

Happy Birthday Jamaica.