This is Jamaica

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.