Jamaica’s Silly Season

I have always loved the area that I live in.  I’m walking distance away from everything that matters.  Banks, investment houses, supermarkets, nice restaurants, gyms and the party scene.    Walking distance and still the area is regarded as a decent place to live.

Never mind that when I first moved in, it wasn’t considered my wisest financial decision, especially since I could have gotten a house with more bedrooms at the same price.    But that was ok.  Even though being in close proximity to all those conveniences meant that there are drug addicts, prostitutes, and beggars to contend with when you do visit the supermarket etc, I was still happy with my decision.   After all, they weren’t on my road.  And I do live in a gated community.  Well actually, all Jamaica is gated these days.      

My friend offered to rent me one of his many properties for $10,000 less.  I turned him down flat.  That was suburbia and I like to be in the thick of things.  As same friend later observed, I’m a real concrete jungle kinda girl. 

Not that I don’t like to look out and see flowers, and trees and all that.  I do.  I just don’t want to have to be away from everything to experience that.   Incidentally I do have all that where I am.  I was telling my neighbor recently that I just love waking up in the morning and hear the birds singing outside my windows.  All I need now is the clean air of suburbia living to go with it.  But, I could always get that when I visit my Mom in
Florida.  At least whenever there’s a tanker drivers’ strike (in Jamaica this happens every quarter to boost gas sales), I can always put on my sneakers and go buy myself food if I need to.

So having said all that, I’m not a happy camper this morning.  I doubt anyone would be.  Not after spending the entire morning (it’s now 1:11pm) listening to what sounds like hundreds of buses rumbling past on the main road, filled with their screaming charges euphorically shouting “Shower! Shower! Shower!”  All this accompanied by tooting of horns as the drivers bravely tried to match the ruckus made by their enthusiastic passengers.  Add to all that, the incessant ringing of bells.    These are not jingles bells that herald the impending silly season that all the world knows.

Nope.  These bells are the indication that our own silly season is here.  It’s election time in Jamaica again.   

Ah well.  What did I expect?  The Jamaica Labour Party (JLP) and its supporters are heady with the intoxicating scent of what looks to be inevitable victory at the polls after seventeen years in the cold.  And they want the world to know.

Thank Goodness, this is the last day of the JLP conference.   Tomorrow I’ll go back to being happy that I live near the main road.

Update: 7:23pm:

I’m watching the evening news where they showed snippets of the conference and in response to observation that he’s not charismatic, JLP leader said “I am what I am.”  Why am I teary-eyed at that?