The next decade....what's in store?
Musings of a yamfooted traveller still trying to shake off those last 20 pounds as she treks across the Caribbean
It's after 8pm here in Grenada. I was up in my room and felt the ice cream bug bite. Blame it on PMS. The hotel only had Vanilla and as I can get that anywhere, I had decided to pass on it earlier. So sitting up in my room, I remembered that the supermarket down the road was still open, and they sell local ice cream. Yup....I picked up my key, took a little money and off I went walking to the supermarket, in the dark I might add.
Would I ever think of doing this in Jamaica? Hell no! And I was walking I was thinking that the only thing I was afraid of was falling into a pot hole in the unlit section of the road, or the cow which I almost didnt see, bumping into me. Well I guess it would be me bumping into him since he was there first!
The only odd moment was as I was walking into the mall, a big belly fella (you know, the type that I would never even look on twice) said 'Hi Sweetie' or some other suggestive thing. Seconds later he is behind me asking if I am from here, blah blah blah. Turns out he's Guyanese. It figured. A Grenadian man isn't likely to be bold enough to do something like that.
Now I fear for this island. Sad to say this, but everywhere you turn, it's Jamaican music you hear. Combine that with BET which they have and....well....let's just hope the government's social programmes can circumvent that. Yes, I'm saying that the Jamaican/BET influence is not the best thing in the world for building sound morals.
Anyway, my ice cream is melting.
F-R-E-E-D-O-M!
Posted by yamfoot at November 11, 2005 07:02 PMYes, I know how you feel. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Jamaica still but de place is simply not safe anymore, especially Kingston. When I go down, which is still quite frequently, there is the whole look over the shoulder thing going on, even though you cannot let others know that is how you really feel. When I return to Atlanta I (or the wife) can walk the dog at 11pm at night without a single care or worry. Its like night and day.
Posted by: De Imigrant at November 12, 2005 12:23 AMYammie, there was a "gang" called the Ginger Crew operating in St. David's (pre-Ivan days). A set if young, teenage badboys. Well the police finally get fed up of carting off stabbing victims and what not, so they make a rounds one weekend, drag them all off to a "boot camp" t'ing and proceed to bullwhip them little so-and-so's within an inch of their lives. Needless to say, the Gingers are verrryyyyy quiet these days, not a peep outta them anymore. That's what some of them need - a good cutass. And that sound just like what your admirer needs too... some people jus' too damn fast!
Posted by: yingYang at November 13, 2005 02:10 PM