Thanksgiving in Jamaica?

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It’s been a good couple of weeks. I visited Hellshire(pronounced Helsure) Beach for the first time. Hellshire is the public beach in Kingston and was quite nice by my Kansas standards. Jamaicans consider it to be not very nice. I, however, was pleased to be at a beach where there were only Jamaicans and no one that just stepped off of a cruise ship. The beach was Caribbean heaven. Their were shacks with palm leave roofs all along the beach selling fresh fish, men offering rides on horses on the sand, and kids playing football(soccer) on the beach…and then their was the water. Of course, the water wasn’t as pristine blue as the water in Ocho Rios, but it’s still pretty nice. I hope to be going back very soon, and I would be there today if not for the lack of a car.

Every Wednesday I go to St. Elizabeth’s church and experience the organizational “qualities” of Jamaicans. On Wednesday afternoons, I work with the “St. E’s outreach program” which is trying to find to organize the building of Food for the Poor houses (quite like habitat for humanity on a Jamaican standard). So after sitting through an excruciating meeting of Jamaicans not deciding anything and talking about the same problems over and over, we visit the neighborhood called “Rome”. Legend has it that Rome is called Rome because it is next to the ROMAN Catholic Church of St. E’s. But we visit this area of town trying to find out who deserves a house built for them free of charge (that is if they supply the needed paperwork and build the foundation). The problem is that EVERYONE needs/deserves a house built for them. Most of them lack the necessary information to get a house built for them (ie: lack of proof of ownership of the land). Rome is really just a huge squatter area (some of them for 20 years or more). They live in houses that I would not enter in the US because of fear of collapse. I walk into the houses, which are extremely clean considering the circumstances, and the floor sinks with every step. I can see through the walls, and the roof is leaking all over. Every week we try to visit people who have come to the church requesting to be put on the list for a house. However it is hard actually finding the people’s house to visit them. Everyone in Rome has the same address, either 85, 86.5, or 86 Mansfield Park Rd. There are probably over 1000 people living at this address (most of their houses are about twice the size of the room that I’m typing this travelblog in right now). We enter Rome with about a group of 6 people and end up walking around with a group of 20. Children from all corners come out to visit and hold our hands as we walk. The jump over, or walk by the trash and polluted water running through the gully without even thinking twice about it. It is all they know. Hopefully not all they will ever know.

This Thursday was my first real Holiday away from my family. Sorry family, but I didn’t feel like I missed out on much. Thanksgiving is not celebrated here (remember: American holiday). So it was a regular work day for me. Sr Paola (an Italian) decided to take us out for thanksgiving dinner on Thursday night. Sr. Paola took us all to the mall food court…what a first it was. I had a chicken wrap. Haha. Sr. Paola put me in
charge of saying the blessing for the food, and I couldn’t help laughing at our situation for celebrating thanksgiving, during my prayer. I thought it was hilarious that I was taken to the Mall Food court for thanksgiving dinner. Good times.

Yesterday (Friday), I went to Tamarind Farm. It is a minimum security work farm/prison. I think there are more foreigners than Jamaicans at the farm. Catholics do prison ministry there every Friday morning. So I accompanied the group on Friday. We (I mainly just was there) taught the prisoners the rosary. Almost all of the prisoners are there on drug trafficking violations. Jamaica is big stopping point from South American for cocaine transport. There were Americans, English, Australians, Polish, and a South American among others. This was a much less intense visit compared to my last prison experience. I enjoyed going here and will probably go back. There were no murderers here….maybe that’s the difference.
That’s all of me for now. I’m learning a lot and having a great time.

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