My Walk to the Store and Back

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It’s a normal work-free Friday afternoon. Today I want to describe a normal walk to the store from the convent (less than five minute walk). I left the convent and closed the gate behind me and headed down the street dodging the bigger potholes and dog feces that gathers only at the corner of the street. By the time I had reached half way to Mannings Hill Road (the main road) a car had passed me slowly (everyone drives slow on our street due to the potholes) and I greeted them with the normal “good afternoon” and continued walking. Within a couple minutes I hear someone yelling “hello, hello” and turn around to see one of the men in the car walking towards me. I politely stop and chat and he asks me for my phone number. This is nothing unusual for a girl (especially a white girl) in Jamaica. He tells me he needs my number because he’s a photographer and needs me in his portfolio. I chatted awhile longer and headed then headed on my way.

I crossed the street and headed to Family Pride, a grocery store. Inside Family Pride I ask to speak to the manager/owner. Today, I’m looking for donations of pencils, pens, and pencil sharpeners for my 6th grade class at DuPont Primary. Teaching is frustrating when your students don’t have writing utensils. I was successful and thankful. Family Pride gave me 70 pens and 3 dozen pencils, and even threw in 2 red pens for the teacher. This made me very happy. I decided to try my luck again and head to another nearby grocery store, Super Valu. I waited for the manager to finish his lunch and then approached him about a donation. No luck this week, but he said to try back next week.

As I am leaving the Family Pride shopping center I get motioned over to purchase some slippers (sandals) from a vendor. I took a look (with no intention of buying shoes) and began a rousing conversation with the vendor, and the vendor’s two friends. People are constantly curious about me in Jamaica (well in Kingston at least). I gave them my story, and the man immediately and not surprisingly asked for my phone number. I declined and continued our good conversation. We (the three Jamaicans vendors and me) laughed for about 10 minutes. Two more Jamaicans came over and laughed with us. We were talking about my romantic relationships in Jamaica. I told the man who wanted my phone number that I had a boyfriend but he still tried. He was a very good sport and was having a lot of fun trying to get it out of me. I wish I could explain the laid back nature of Jamaicans. Men have no problem asking a woman for her phone number, or striking up a conversation with strangers. Chatting like this is such a part of the culture. Jamaicans are friendly to pretty much everyone. I feel like people will be friendly to me if I am friendly to them.

I am not afraid to stop and talk to people I don’t know. The more people I talk to in my neighborhood, the more that will look out for me and the more I will get to know the culture and community. It is simple: take time for others.

In the States I would have never stopped to talk to these people. They would have never talked to me. I would have missed out on 10 minutes of hearty laughter, which makes a happy and respected person in Jamaica.

I made it all the way back home with out any more requests for my phone number: ). And returned to the personality lacking convent.

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Comments

[Erika]

Personality lacking convent? that's harsh. don't you think sr. Paola (sp.) adds something? if not her, than another guy? (wink) hee hee hee

[Dr. Love]

It seems as if ur one of the prettiest woman on the face of the earth. why? because it doesn`t matter how you say no to the guys they still want your no. so what about your relationship in Jamaica? what kind of man do u have? is he more romantic than the Americans?