Oh, hello. I hope this post finds you well, even if you are welcoming more snow and cold weather. I probably shouldn't mention that I just got back from the pool, and am beginning to notice the first signs of a tan. It's a tough life.
But in all seriousness, the pool, really? I look around during the day, and shake my head, wondering what the heck I'm doing here. This is a feeling I've been in conflict with since getting here, I think. And whereas initially it was built on nerves and doubts about my ability to pursue a whole semester here, it's now shifted to bewilderment and a sense that this life is far too extravagant for me. I want to be careful that I don't come off sounding like I have simple living totally figured out, because there is a lot about my life that is an unecessary luxury. But when I am faced with my surroundings- massive buildings, and restaraunts, and pools, and air conditioning, and all of us students with our laptops- I cannot help but think about the fact that this is not how the majority of Jamaicans live.
I had a great conversation with Anders (pronounced Andeths), from Sweden, the other night, who challenged me on this. His point was that we don't go to low income areas back home to see the "real Sweden" or the "real Canada", so to do that here, to come with the intention to see the "real Jamaica", is somewhat hypocritical. But I suppose it depends on what your intentions are. There is something utterly exploitative about going to observe poverty, to say that you've seen it, or to exert your affluence. And I want to ensure that that's not me (and perhaps that is part of why my first trip off this campus was to the mall, and not downtown Kingston), but at the same time, I think I need to do more to break down the notions that surround me when people see my white skin. Because going to the mall with other white girls here, pretending to love shopping or cheap manicures, will surely drive me crazy.
But delving into all of that, just incomplete thoughts that I have been contemplating lately, skips over the things that have happened since my last post. Ah, I've been busy, and finally, finally met some other people.
On Monday, after reporting to the international exchange office, I became acquainted with a few of the exchange students from Sweden. A lot of the exchange students here (there are about 8 of us, I think) come from Sweden. Later, as I was wandering around being lost, someone called my name, and an exchange student from Toronto, who recognized me from Facebook, introduced herself and gave me her cell number. Words cannot explain how great it was to join her, and another student from Toronto, to buy groceries and make a meal together. Anders joined us later, and as I sucked back a Red Stripe, I was glad not only for food that wasn't deep fried, but also for this first opportunity (hopefully of many) to fellowship with good people.
The next day I came home to Michael, Vanessa's boyfriend, sitting in our common room. A little put off at first, he was quick to make conversation and befriend me. In the process of making me fish for lunch, he began telling me why the flat I was living in was the best in all of my hall. I smiled as he asked me if I knew what "communal living" was, "because that," he said, "is how these girls live." Within the context of food, he told me that when the girls cook, they cook for everyone. And I am convinced of this now, because the past two nights they have sat a full plate in front of me, generously including me like they would any of their other flatmates. So while I will admit to still feeling distanced from them, both by language and culture, I am hopeful that they will soon develop into people who will call me their friend. And also, I am really amazed by God's provision, because I wasn't quite sure what I would be eating this semester (I haven't found much beyond KFC and Juci Patties, and if you're reading this, you should know that I don't cook well either). The possibility of starvation is a reality that I have never had to face, but 'supplying my daily bread' has taken on new meaning lately.
Despite the impression that the length of this blog might give, I have indeed started classes- kind of. Figuring out my schedule was an accomplishment in itself. But now that it's all sorted out, the first week, I am learning, is still fairly laid back. I only have one class that I've really started. I went to a class this morning that no one, including the prof, showed up to. I am, of course, a little unsettled by this. But I am told not to stress, this is Jamaica mon.
T. I. J.
Keep well, and much love to you.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Full of Nerves
Last night I fell asleep to the sound of R&B wafting through my open window, and in my final moments of consciousness I thought, "This will be a very different semester indeed."
But getting to that point, the point now where I am in the hot hot heat of Jamaican sun, began with an early morning drive to the airport, a tearful and anxious goodbye, and some apricot and almond sandwhiches. It was strange, and somehow comforting to reach my terminal, knowing that all the build up surrounding my leaving was over, and that I was on my own. It was also overwhelming. But just as I was beginning to think about it too much, this bright brown eyed girl strolled up to me, peeking around in my bags and ignoring any kind of advice that her mother might have ever told her to not interact with strangers. Along with her older brother, we hung out, picking up the phone sitting beside me and pretending it was for each other. I was so grateful for the distraction, because I was boarding the plane before I knew it.
The plane ride itself was fine. I met a lovely man, Gifford, who lives in Toronto and is visiting family until the end of May. He asked me about my travels, and ended up giving me his contact information in case I ever needed anything. I thought to myself, that if all Jamaicans were like this, I would love Jamaica very, very much. Another Toronto living Jamaican- I never actually learned his name- sat on the other side of me, and told me about his life as a plumber, a father and coach of her basketball team. He had the most genuine smile, and although I was still full of nerves about how the rest of the day might unfold, my conversations with both these men brought a certain calm and a sense that the rest of the day was going to be okay.
I exited the plane, still a little edgy, but found my bags with ease, went through customs with ease, and within a few tense moments, found a woman with a sign reading 'Allison Newfield' with ease. She took me to my driver, and small framed and wonderfully aged man named Roy, who ended up being a greater friend than I imagined. We coasted through Old and then New Kingston, until we reached my residence where he helped me unload my bags at the office. He hopped into the vehicle just as I was pulling on the office doors. Locked. And noticing my struggle, he got back out and went for help. He ended up taking me to the security guards at the gate of my residence, pleading my case and telling them that sticking me in and making me pay for the hotel on campus would not be okay just because they could not find anyone to let me into my room. What was I to do? I had no idea where my room was supposed to be, no key to get in. And no idea that a funeral in Montego Bay had brought 4 bus loads of people away from campus, people like the ones that run the office of my residence.
Many phone calls, driving around and nervous thoughts later, they had tracked down the girl who was supposed to have met me, who had my key, and who now left it with the security guards back at my res. The exchange coordinator dropped me back off at my hall, where the security guards who I had befriended after Roy left, helped to make sure I got settled in. I was beautifully reminded that I wasn't alone in all of this as one of them handed me their cell phone, where Wallen, another security guard who had taken me under his wing, was on the phone making sure I was okay.
Still full of nerves, I met Donna, my only flat-mate here until tonight or tomorrow (I think there will be 8 of us). I couldn't have been in better hands. She showed me my room, the rest of our flat, and eventually to KFC. I said I wouldn't eat there, and yet, at 8 in the evening, when all of my nerves had finally dissipated, I was hungry and very glad for her willingness to take me somewhere- even if it was the KFC on campus.
I've been able to form some more solid impressions of the campus now that I've had the day to scout it out. Although, I haven't completely found my bearings, especially because you drive on the left here. It doesn't sound like a big deal, I know. But my inclination is always to walk right, which is fine, but I end up approaching most signs, the ones that tell you where to go and where things are, from the wrong way. It's beautiful here though- gloriously hot. They also weren't lying when they said that it's snuggled in at the bottom of moutains. At the same time, I feel a little like I'm at a resort, and this is very much a gated community. I can already tell that unless I find a way to explore, hopefully with someone who is willing to leave the confines of campus, that I am going to get a little stir crazy. I know I am here to go to school, but I also know that's not the only reason, and so it is my hope that it won't be long until I get to see more of this beautiful and complex country.
There's so much more to say, and you can probably tell that I have some time on my hands because this post is lengthy as it is. So I'm going to leave it here. I will finish this off by saying that I am learning heaps within the limited time that I've been here so far. I feel very safe, and excited to be here, although not at home quite yet. There's a lot that is kind of on hold until Monday, when all of the students should be back, classes begin, and the administrative buildings open again. Until then, I am going to continue to explore, and hope to make more friends.
Much love.
But getting to that point, the point now where I am in the hot hot heat of Jamaican sun, began with an early morning drive to the airport, a tearful and anxious goodbye, and some apricot and almond sandwhiches. It was strange, and somehow comforting to reach my terminal, knowing that all the build up surrounding my leaving was over, and that I was on my own. It was also overwhelming. But just as I was beginning to think about it too much, this bright brown eyed girl strolled up to me, peeking around in my bags and ignoring any kind of advice that her mother might have ever told her to not interact with strangers. Along with her older brother, we hung out, picking up the phone sitting beside me and pretending it was for each other. I was so grateful for the distraction, because I was boarding the plane before I knew it.
The plane ride itself was fine. I met a lovely man, Gifford, who lives in Toronto and is visiting family until the end of May. He asked me about my travels, and ended up giving me his contact information in case I ever needed anything. I thought to myself, that if all Jamaicans were like this, I would love Jamaica very, very much. Another Toronto living Jamaican- I never actually learned his name- sat on the other side of me, and told me about his life as a plumber, a father and coach of her basketball team. He had the most genuine smile, and although I was still full of nerves about how the rest of the day might unfold, my conversations with both these men brought a certain calm and a sense that the rest of the day was going to be okay.
I exited the plane, still a little edgy, but found my bags with ease, went through customs with ease, and within a few tense moments, found a woman with a sign reading 'Allison Newfield' with ease. She took me to my driver, and small framed and wonderfully aged man named Roy, who ended up being a greater friend than I imagined. We coasted through Old and then New Kingston, until we reached my residence where he helped me unload my bags at the office. He hopped into the vehicle just as I was pulling on the office doors. Locked. And noticing my struggle, he got back out and went for help. He ended up taking me to the security guards at the gate of my residence, pleading my case and telling them that sticking me in and making me pay for the hotel on campus would not be okay just because they could not find anyone to let me into my room. What was I to do? I had no idea where my room was supposed to be, no key to get in. And no idea that a funeral in Montego Bay had brought 4 bus loads of people away from campus, people like the ones that run the office of my residence.
Many phone calls, driving around and nervous thoughts later, they had tracked down the girl who was supposed to have met me, who had my key, and who now left it with the security guards back at my res. The exchange coordinator dropped me back off at my hall, where the security guards who I had befriended after Roy left, helped to make sure I got settled in. I was beautifully reminded that I wasn't alone in all of this as one of them handed me their cell phone, where Wallen, another security guard who had taken me under his wing, was on the phone making sure I was okay.
Still full of nerves, I met Donna, my only flat-mate here until tonight or tomorrow (I think there will be 8 of us). I couldn't have been in better hands. She showed me my room, the rest of our flat, and eventually to KFC. I said I wouldn't eat there, and yet, at 8 in the evening, when all of my nerves had finally dissipated, I was hungry and very glad for her willingness to take me somewhere- even if it was the KFC on campus.
I've been able to form some more solid impressions of the campus now that I've had the day to scout it out. Although, I haven't completely found my bearings, especially because you drive on the left here. It doesn't sound like a big deal, I know. But my inclination is always to walk right, which is fine, but I end up approaching most signs, the ones that tell you where to go and where things are, from the wrong way. It's beautiful here though- gloriously hot. They also weren't lying when they said that it's snuggled in at the bottom of moutains. At the same time, I feel a little like I'm at a resort, and this is very much a gated community. I can already tell that unless I find a way to explore, hopefully with someone who is willing to leave the confines of campus, that I am going to get a little stir crazy. I know I am here to go to school, but I also know that's not the only reason, and so it is my hope that it won't be long until I get to see more of this beautiful and complex country.
There's so much more to say, and you can probably tell that I have some time on my hands because this post is lengthy as it is. So I'm going to leave it here. I will finish this off by saying that I am learning heaps within the limited time that I've been here so far. I feel very safe, and excited to be here, although not at home quite yet. There's a lot that is kind of on hold until Monday, when all of the students should be back, classes begin, and the administrative buildings open again. Until then, I am going to continue to explore, and hope to make more friends.
Much love.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Goodbye
So I did it. I jumped with both feet onto the blogging bandwagon, and I'm curious to see where it takes me. I should admit from the outset that I am not sure how this will go. Even as a kid, I was great at documenting the first couple days of our family vacations in journals or diaries, but somewhere along the way would lose steam and throw in the towel. That could happen with this too. And I think that it probably stems from this sense that I have, that to capture the way a moment feels in your heart is sometimes just impossible to do through words. I think it's the same with photography. Some things are better left in our memories, a place where only we can fully understand them.
With that said, I do see the value in attempting to share this adventure. I can't promise it will be articulate, or particularly insightful, but my hope is that it will serve as a means to connect us. Please don't let this be one way. I have no idea what this next semester holds for me, but just because I am seemingly caught up in it doesn't mean that I am not interested in your lives, wherever they are being lived. Send me e-mails, Facebook me, whatever- I am going to miss you all, and am certainly interested in what you are up to.
As for me, what I do know is that I will be gone until the end of July. The semester that I am spending in Jamaica will have officially ended by mid-May, and the rest of my time will be spent exploring the island, but also Central America. That's really all I know. And I am excited, and basking in the fact that all I have are grand ideas and the rest are yet to be determined. My prayer is that comfort, complacency or fear would not keep me realizing the fullness that this adventure could be, and would love if you would join me in that prayer. I've never travelled like this before- more or less independently- and while this is the opportunity that I have hoped for, it would be a fib to say that it doesn't slightly freak me out. Can I really do this?
So you can imagine that reading Donald Miller was a good fit as I prepare to leave. His writing spoke words I needed to hear:
Leave.
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.
I hope so. I hope that I return like our blue jalopy bike. Beautifully weathered and full of stories, proof that I lived this trip fully.
So goodbye. I leave on Friday, and my next post will be far from this horrible winter.
Peace and always love,
Allison
With that said, I do see the value in attempting to share this adventure. I can't promise it will be articulate, or particularly insightful, but my hope is that it will serve as a means to connect us. Please don't let this be one way. I have no idea what this next semester holds for me, but just because I am seemingly caught up in it doesn't mean that I am not interested in your lives, wherever they are being lived. Send me e-mails, Facebook me, whatever- I am going to miss you all, and am certainly interested in what you are up to.
As for me, what I do know is that I will be gone until the end of July. The semester that I am spending in Jamaica will have officially ended by mid-May, and the rest of my time will be spent exploring the island, but also Central America. That's really all I know. And I am excited, and basking in the fact that all I have are grand ideas and the rest are yet to be determined. My prayer is that comfort, complacency or fear would not keep me realizing the fullness that this adventure could be, and would love if you would join me in that prayer. I've never travelled like this before- more or less independently- and while this is the opportunity that I have hoped for, it would be a fib to say that it doesn't slightly freak me out. Can I really do this?
So you can imagine that reading Donald Miller was a good fit as I prepare to leave. His writing spoke words I needed to hear:
Leave.
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.
I hope so. I hope that I return like our blue jalopy bike. Beautifully weathered and full of stories, proof that I lived this trip fully.
So goodbye. I leave on Friday, and my next post will be far from this horrible winter.
Peace and always love,
Allison
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