Tick Tick Tick Tick Tock

The title of this blog is the chorus of a dancehall song that I hear fairly regularly here. I thought of it as I was considering where the time goes?

Today is the 23rd, which marks exactly one month since my arrival, and two weeks since my last blog post (sorry). Little did I know in my last entry that the busyness I anticipated with 'Rex Week' would continue with increasing measures. I was hit with a swift reality check at the beginning of last week when I realized that despite the fact that I am in care-free Jamaica, I still have a presentation and two papers due at the beginning of March, and, OH SHOOT, March is really close! I think I've recovered, but sadly, getting down to business and avoiding procrastination is just as hard (correction: probably harder) in a different, and exciting environment. (And admittedly, this entry is motivated by both guilt that I haven't posted in a long time, but also by an attempt to avoid the paper which awaits me after I finish this.)

I've decided that instead of trying to relay every experience and adventure of the past two weeks, I will spare you the boring details and let you in on some specific stories and thoughts which have occurred along the way. Even this seems like a lofty task, as I find myself wondering where to begin?

Okay.

I have my answer down committed to memory. Usually I can sense it coming. I'll meet someone for the first time, and when we reach that lull in conversation, it seems the instinctual question is then to ask, "Of all places, why the heck did you choose Jamaica?" And I hate that question. I've never had a clear sense of why Jamaica tugged at my heart, and the longer I'm here and the more I feel like an oddball in this place, the further away I feel from being able to answer that question. But I have to say something. And so I usually mumble something about studying development, and about how I wanted to learn from both my classes and the environment in which I was living... blah, blah, blah. One of my flatmates asked me a funny question the other day after she overheard me giving that answer (probably for the 4th or 5th time). She looked at me with her forehead crinkled and said, "So, are we objects in your study?" WOA! Without knowing Kim, you would think this to be a very aggressive and judgmental question, and I was, obviously, a little taken aback. But she asked it lovingly and earnestly, and after I giggled a little, I told her that I wasn't studying her anymore than she was studying me.

Now when I answer the question, I try to do it with a little more tact. Unfortunately, it still flusters me every time, so I don't think I've become any more eloquent with my response.

But it's forced me to ask myself if I'm really doing this. Am I really taking everything that I can from my classes, but also from the place where I'm at? And while I don't think that I will really be able to answer that question until long after this semester is over (if ever), I've still tried to evaluate it. Automatically I think about my Caribbean Culture class- a class that, in only the 5th week, has already afforded me so many insights and opportunities into this country. The class is based largely around field trips and guest lecturers, and our only assignment (besides the final exam) is to write a (hefty) paper on one of these experiences. I've heard about Rastafari beliefs from a practicing Rastafari (who I later saw on the local Jamaican TV show "Religious Hard Talk"); about the history and evolution of music in Jamaica from the director of performing arts at the university; and about the ins and outs of the Jamaican music industry from a member of a reggae group, VoiceMail.

It is thanks to this class that I found myself in Tivoli, a decidedly lower-income area than Mona is (where the campus is located), between the hours of 2-7:30 in the morning, dancing as the sun came up. I'm still not really sure what to make of Passa Passa, but I will say that it was a place where I felt completely welcome. There were so many people from such diverse walks of life, and yet here, in this so-called "ghetto", we all coexisted so peacefully.

Passa Passa, around 4 o'clock in the morning.

Sun's coming up. And we made some friends along the way.

It also thanks to this class that I spent Friday, travelling by bus, to Trelawny, a parish between Ocho Rios and Montego Bay for something called Outameni. We stopped on the way there to buy some food at a restaurant, and I, feeling both tired and a little bus-sick, wasn't all that hungry. I saw other people buying what looked like chicken noodle soup, and thought that instead of blowing the bank on Jerk Chicken, I would opt for a cheaper, and easier on my stomach option. Jessica, kept asking me, "What kind of soup is it? Shouldn't you ask what kind of soup it is?" And I kept saying, "Why? They tell me it's chicken. It looks appealing." So I went ahead and ordered it. When they ran out of disposable bowls, and I found myself waiting and watching other people get delicious looking chicken and rice, I knew I should be changing my order. But I didn't. And finally, when they put my soup into two hot cups, I realized that what I thought were noodles, were actually CHICKEN FEET.

Chicken foot stew.

Gross, gross, gross, gross. I couldn't handle it. I tried transferring the feet from one cup to another, in an attempt to still eat the broth, but that was too much. Yuck! I managed to take a photo, because I needed to get something out of this disgusting lunch. Needless to say, from now on, I will always opt for the Jerk Chicken.

(It even looks like the chicken foot is giving me attitude, as if to taunt me for not making a better decision.)

On Saturday, I went back toward Ochi with my flatmates to spend the day at Dunn's River Falls. This day was especially lovely, not only for the chance to climb a waterfall (however safety proofed and tourist friendly), but because I was able to experience this very touristy attraction without feeling like a tourist. Allison, you are a tourist. I know, I know- I guess I still am. But, not only did my flatmates get me in for the Jamaican price (there are different prices for tourists and for Jamaican residents), but for one of the first times since being here, I felt like a member of their community, and not simply the foreign exchange student.

I am leaving you with one final thought, which had particular weight today.

Of the many ways that being white has affected (often frustratingly) my reality here, it has given me a certain ability to be recognized around campus. Today, for some reason, I noticed it especially. People I've never seen before know my name, and will say hello, and even people who don't know my name feel compelled to introduce themselves. I feel bad sometimes, like I've forgotten meeting someone. But for the most part, I have met some really wonderful and loving people just by way of their friendliness.

So I am beginning to see that everyday I've spent here has been filled with blessings. Today their names were Fursan, Malesha and ‘Ro.

Much, much love.

Raindrops and Sunshine

It's raining right now. I'm sitting under a tarp within the courtyard of my residence, and am watching people, avoiding my homework and attempting to blog. Rain feels different here, because it's so warm, and perhaps that is why people aren't walking any faster with the rain falling. Nobody is scurrying, or rushing into their cluster. This strikes me as strange, because I think I would have to fight every urge inside of me not to make a run for it.

It feels like I just blogged, and am impressed with myself that I am blogging again. But I anticipate this being a busy week, and I have begun to explore this place beyond campus, so there are things to say.

I got groceries downtown on Friday. After a few days of conspiring with some of the other exchange students how to see this country, I was feeling quite ready to put words into action. And so it was that Jessica, Anders and I, along with Jessica's friend Dave, caught a taxi, which whisked us away from campus, and into a seemingly different and wonderful world. Ripe with smells of raw sewage, rotting produce and marijuana, downtown stood in stark contrast to the institutional environment which I have come to call home these days. As a lover of people watching, I was in heaven. From every corner, there was music playing, and children running, and women hair-doing, and men smoking and I knew that this was the Jamaica that would be the easiest for me to love. It was the most inefficient way of doing grocery shopping, because every shop is set up like a hallway, where the products and employees stand behind bars and wait for you to order your groceries like you were asking to see a movie. But it didn't matter that in the moment the only things I could remember to buy were Cheerios and Kraft Dinner, because I had rubbed shoulders and captured eye contact with so many storied humans that I could have gone home empty handed and been happy.

On Sunday, along with 2 other exchange students, we caught a taxi back downtown, and from downtown, to Port Royal. What was once a bustling port, and pirate central, was on Sunday a strangely dead town. Together, we explored the historic part of the city for a bit, bought some snacks, and then waited for a boat to take us from Port Royal to Lime Cay, a tiny island and beach. A BEACH! Over two weeks into my stay here, and I finally touched some sand and swam in the ocean.

I finished the weekend feeling so full of sun and thankfulness.

This week promises to bring more adventure and excitement. Sunday kicked off 'Rex Week', a week full of activities for people in my Hall. I am even part of a choir which is performing in a competition on Tuesday or Wednesday- bahaha. Yes, I am the only white girl in my cluster's choir, and yes, we are singing contemporary Jamaican songs, and yes, we have included the ever popular 'Romping Shop' song as part of our medley. This is your cue to laugh. You should know though, that the other option was dancing (because no participation is really not an option), and as much as my flatmates would have loooooved to witness my attempt at dancing, I am hoping to embarass myself less this way. I will let you know how it turns out.

That's all. I'm going to go fight my instincts, and catch some raindrops in my hair.

Love to you.

Jamaican Me Crazy (that's for you, Cam)

I have one prof who isn’t Jamaican. On Wednesdays, our lecture takes place in a room which is much too big for the 12 or so students in the class, but which is much too small for the large class that happens immediately after ours. So, about 20 minutes before the end of our lecture yesterday, about 4-5 guys walk in, who none of us have ever seen before, and sit down. A few moments later, another one opens the door, this time asking if he can just sit in until the next class, and we realize they are all trying to save seats before the rush of the next class. A little annoyed, the prof continues indulging us in World Systems Theory, until, a girl walks in, and he cries, “No, get out!” After this, a girl in our class, giggling, says, “I’ve never heard you speak that loudly before.” He, also giggling, and now back to his soft spoken self says, “I’m sorry, but there are just some things about this place that DRIVE ME CRAZY.”

All this is to say, that I feel like I can identify with Professor Talbot’s sentiments sometimes.

In my last post, I mentioned that I thought that I had my course schedule largely figured out. Wrong. That class- the one that no one showed up to- I learned this week is no longer being offered due to a lack of interest in the course. I feel like I have been to so, so many classes over the past two weeks, just trying to solidify my timetable with courses that are not too easy, but also not too hard. For example, I went to one class on Jamaican Creole that I was really excited about, until I learned that our assignments and presentation had to be done in Patois, the language that is spoken outside of classes here. But, although I’m weary to say it, I think now my schedule is mostly figured out, AND, amazingly, I think I have both Thursdays and Fridays off.

I spent all of yesterday running around trying to pay a residence fee that does not even show up on my records. This is not to say that I don’t need to pay for residence, but I was baffled that they could threaten to deregister me for not paying a fee that I couldn’t even see yet. So, it was back and forth between my residence (which is a hefty walk from main campus), and the international students' office, until finally, around 11 last night, the internet kicked back in, and I was able to pay it online.

And so I am learning to move to a different rhythm. I will admit to being frustrated by the pace and disorganization of much that happens here, but have also been able to recognize that soon this will all feel quite normal. I am continued to be amazed by the way that God is so present in my frustrations, and I am convinced that this is largely thanks to the many people who have me wrapped in their prayers. Know that they are felt, and infinitely appreciated.

I have, yes, experienced some lows since my last post. But, there have also been some lovely moments and opportunities:

Netball Tournament

On Saturday, Rex Nettleford (the name of the residence that I'm staying in, named after a Jamaican scholar) had a girls netball tournament, where each of the clusters in the hall (there's 9 all together) formed a team. So at 8 in the morning, I went down to the netball courts with two other girls from my flat to cheer on our cluster (I am learning that supporting your cluster/residence/school is highly valued here). We spent until about 2 hanging out on the courts, as I learned through observation, how to play this basketball-like sport. I don't think that I will ever venture to play it (I understand the basic idea of the game, but I do not understand all of the positions) because it is far too intense for me, and I would probably end up on the wrong part of the court (everyone wears pinnies with their position title written on it, but I have no idea what the initials stand for), or dribbling with the ball (you're not allowed to run once you have the ball in your hands), or pushing someone by accident (it's a strictly non-contact sport, and therefore the wistle is blowing almost all the time). We left during the semi-finals, because the sun was so hot, and we were all really hungry. But sadly, cluster 4 (my cluster) lost to cluster 1 in the finals.

Beauty and the Beast, Jamaican Style

It was shortly before 5 on Sunday evening, and I was wondering to myself how I would spend the last moments of my weekend, that my phone rang. On the other end was Ozzie, a Toronto exchange student here, asking me if I’d like to come to see Beauty and the Beast? I thought it was kind of odd to want to go see a Disney movie, but it is my favourite, and I was pretty much willing to do anything at that point. He corrected me, saying that it was a play that they were putting on at the theatre on campus, that it started at 5, and that I should get there as quickly as I could. I grabbed my stuff, and made it to the theatre just in time to see the opening scene. What the people around me described as an amateur attempt, was actually really, really great.

Aerobics by Sunrise

One of my flatmates goes to aerobics classes every morning at 6:15, and she invited me to come along. So on Monday morning, I joined her, with about 6 other people for an exercise class that we did outside, as the sun came up. It was a really great way to start off the day, and I’ve actually continued going with her.
On a side note: Normally, there would be no getting me out of bed that early, especially on a regular basis. But I think that this is also part of my adjusting to different rhythm. I don't think people sleep here, because usually I fall asleep to something (music, a movie playing, people talking or cheering) and I wake up to the same thing. The flatmates that don’t come along to aerobics are usually all up, and sometimes leaving, by the time that we get back. And strangely enough, I think it’s rubbing off on me.

Saltfish Fritters

The other night, as I was enjoying the company of my flatmates, the girls were asking me if I knew what different fruits or Jamaican food were. Much to their amusement, I didn’t really know much. Within that conversation, Ava told me that she would make saltfish fritters, and I assumed this meant she would make it sometime this semester. But, before the night was over, she was whipping together the batter for these things (it’s really not difficult, I even learned how to do it), and we were frying them up. So that night for dinner, I had plantains, fish, and saltfish fritters, and it was delicious. The only thing I can think to compare them to are greasy pretzels, because the saltfish makes them pretty salty. I mean, it was no delicacy, and definitely very bad for you, but delicious nonetheless.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. I have started scheming, along with some other exchange students, ways to get out and see the rest of this country, and that makes me very giddy. So, we will see happens!

Love to you.