I never imagined having so much fun in Jamaica with my older relatives during my 2 week trip. I stayed with my grandparents in Spur Tree, right outside of Mandeville, about two hours from Kingston, the capital. My favorite parts of this experience were the food, hanging out with the family, and hearing patois (PAT-WA). My father doesn't speak patois (to this day I still do not know why) and though my mother speaks it (mostly when she's angry, happy, or excited), it's watered down over the years.
The best meals I've eaten in my grandmother's house were ackee & saltfish, hardough bread with nearly every meal, corn beef and cabbage, rice and peas, bulla, hominy corn porridge, festival (fried sugar bread), patties, and fried fish. I love Jamaican food.
The best meals I've eaten in my grandmother's house were ackee & saltfish, hardough bread with nearly every meal, corn beef and cabbage, rice and peas, bulla, hominy corn porridge, festival (fried sugar bread), patties, and fried fish. I love Jamaican food.
Funny stories
I visited with my grandparents, great-aunts (Grandma’s sisters), cousins, family friends, and the workers fixing up our family house, who are practically family. I can’t forget my grandmother’s favorite saying, “Lord have mercy!” which she says in response to everything and anything.
“Grandma, can we make pancakes tomorrow?”
“Lord have mercy.”
My great-aunt tells her impatiently, “Lucille, back the car straight out of the driveway!”
“Loooord have mercy.”
Me: “Grandma, can I have bulla before I go to bed?”
Her: “LORD have mercy.”
I’ve been getting the best medicine for the past couple of weeks – laughter.
~*~
My grandmother hasn’t stopped telling me a certain memory of hers from when I was about 6 years old. I came to visit during the summer with my sister, who was about 9 at the time. One Sunday in church, on Father’s Day, it was a bit more crowded than usual. There were many visitors from other churches. Apparently, I’d never seen so many Caucasians congregated in one spot in Jamaica. It shocked me so much I looked around with wide eyes and said loudly, “Grandma, there are WHITE people! There are WHITE people, Grandma!” My poor grandmother shushed me frantically; she must’ve been so embarrassed.
~*~
My grandparents, great-aunts and I were on our way to the beach this past Tuesday. Font Hill to be exact, about an hour away from Mandeville. When we arrived, it was closed. My aunt suggested we call the number on the sign.
“We should have called from before,” my grandpa said.
“Livy, please!” My grandma responded, irritated.
“We can go to Little Ochie instead,” my aunt said.
I didn’t mind going to Little Ochie. I was disappointed that Font Hill was supposedly out of business (although the sign on the gate said they were open M-F from 9-5), and annoyed about the park’s unprofessionalism, but I got over it. “Yes, let’s go to Little Ochie,” I agree, eager to taste some fried fish at this well-known seafood restaurant.
Before our driver pulls out of the park’s gateway, I feel something crawling on my shoulder. I turn my head nonchalantly, thinking it’s just a small ant, fly, or ladybug I can flick off. Nope. There was a HUGE, flying cockroach that was exploring my shoulder. I screamed and jumped out of my seat. Even after flicking it off of me, I looked about frantically because I knew the wretched bug was still in the car.
“Wha’pen Deborah?!” Everyone shouted.
“A huge roach was on my shoulder!”
They dismissed me. I'm sure they thought I was crazy, but only until my Grandma saw the roach herself because it was still in the car and crawling on the floor. This wasn't my first encounter with these nasty bugs in the Caribbean.
“We should have called from before,” my grandpa said.
“Livy, please!” My grandma responded, irritated.
“We can go to Little Ochie instead,” my aunt said.
I didn’t mind going to Little Ochie. I was disappointed that Font Hill was supposedly out of business (although the sign on the gate said they were open M-F from 9-5), and annoyed about the park’s unprofessionalism, but I got over it. “Yes, let’s go to Little Ochie,” I agree, eager to taste some fried fish at this well-known seafood restaurant.
Before our driver pulls out of the park’s gateway, I feel something crawling on my shoulder. I turn my head nonchalantly, thinking it’s just a small ant, fly, or ladybug I can flick off. Nope. There was a HUGE, flying cockroach that was exploring my shoulder. I screamed and jumped out of my seat. Even after flicking it off of me, I looked about frantically because I knew the wretched bug was still in the car.
“Wha’pen Deborah?!” Everyone shouted.
“A huge roach was on my shoulder!”
They dismissed me. I'm sure they thought I was crazy, but only until my Grandma saw the roach herself because it was still in the car and crawling on the floor. This wasn't my first encounter with these nasty bugs in the Caribbean.
I didn’t get to go to all of the well-known and touristy spots because I just wanted to hang with the family this time around. I didn’t have the means to get there anyway. Most (if not all) of my relatives back in Jamaica are old, retired, or too busy with work or school to gallivant throughout the country with me. I had just as much fun (if not more) chilling with the family.
