Day Three:
A new day! We awoke as a team rejuvenated and ready to work. Luckily, there was work to be done! The men headed off to work on the church toilet project and the women stayed behind to paint the volunteer house a vibrant shade called 'Caribbean Blue'.
We began our project. There were four of us and four paint brushes, so we didn't have to stop and switch off. We were having a good time.
Then Larry came back.
He was very upset that no Jamaicans were helping us, however, we really didn't need the help. We only had four brushes. He commented that the policy of Global Volunteers is to work with the community, but the people in the community can't take a vacation to help us! Most of them had work to do on their farms. We didn't mind doing this project solo, since it would only take a day to complete. But Larry was very adamant and stated, "If they're not working, neither will I." He spent the day walking back and forth between the projects and threatening not to offer any of the Jamaicans lunch even though there was plenty of food and money in the budget for that purpose.
Needless to say, I was pissed.
My teammates and I tried not to let it bother us. Eventually, some young guys showed up and helped us paint the parts of the wall we couldn't reach. Rachel and I took turns with the paint brush and giggling when giant bags of ganga fell out of the painter's pockets. We bonded with our other teammates by complaining about Larry. I know that's immature, but it made me feel good to know that I wasn't the only one feeling disgruntled. He just seemed to have tunnel-vision about the way things ought to go. Also, he was doing nothing to help Rachel get her bags...even though Global rented us a car for two weeks. The frustration was adding up.
Later in the day we had another cultural shock. Since the painting was done, some of us grabbed trash bags and gloves and began picking up litter. The Jamaicans were appalled. It was unnecessary, they said, even though there was a significant amount of trash lying around. Then they told us this was the top of the mountain and the rain would wash all the trash down to other places below. Hmm...okay. The only other system for getting rid of trash is to burn it. Obviously, they don't have government trucks driving around to take garbage away. We didn't want to argue, so we stopped the litter patrol. It was hard not to try and explain the environmental and health hazards of throwing trash into the valley, but, I didn't come to lecture people. Also, who am I to tell them to stop doing something they've been doing for decades?
The other awesome thing is that when we met people, they wanted to ask us about Barack Obama. One man, Zulu, told me that electing Obama is America's opportunity to get back in the good graces of the outside world. Zulu introduced himself by telling us he used to live in the states, then proceeded to rattle off all the prisons he'd frequented. But he was friendly, kind, and loved showing off Jamaica for us. He quickly became our "go-to" guy on the island.
So, after lunch, Rachel and I finished painting and then rounded up the kids to play at the church. We were worried that since the house was done, there wouldn't be any work for us to do in the daytime for the rest of the week. After some discussion, I planned to walk up to the school the next day and look for opportunities. It made me slightly uncomfortable, because I knew the students were supposed to be preparing for their national exams the next week and I didn't want to interrupt.
After playing with the kids, I was covered in a tasty combination of bug spray, sunscreen and sweat. So I decided to risk it again and...shower. Rebel that I am, I stayed in as long as I could bear it (so, like 5 minutes tops) but was dismayed when I got out to discover half my team went on a hike to Zulu's farm. When they got back, they told me about how he pulled out his machete (they almost took off running) then used it to hack his way through trees to get to his farm (which was a bunch of random vegetables interspersed among a bunch of weed). He told them to watch out for his limp, because his leg still had the bullet when the cops shot him. I wish I could've been on the hike with them.
After that, we all met for dinner and pondered what work there was to be done the next day. I decided to go up to the school and find out. Little did I know what I'd find when I walked up the mountain the next day.
WG
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
some details
Well, originally, I planned on arriving back from Jamaica today instead of last weekend. As I'm sure you can see from the pictures, I had a great time on my trip!! I decided to come home early....well, you'll see. First, here's a little rundown of my week.
Day One: I arrive!
I arrived in Kingston and met my leader outside customs. He was, for lack of better description, very nice and knowledgeable. That opinion would change as the week went on. We gathered the rest of our team and left for Mt. Vernon. The team included an older couple, Jeff and Maureen, who had a tough time adjusting to our accommodations but who worked very hard and were quite lovable by the end. We also had two boys fresh out of high school. Dan was super-easy-going and fit in great with the Jamaicans. Lee was painfully shy but always polite. There was another younger girl, Rachel, a nurse and mom from New York. Lastly, we had Stephanie and her two older children, Riel, 21, and Chavies, 17. Unfortunately, Rachel's bags never made it to Jamaica. She was very even-keel, which I found inspiring, because I'd of been crying my eyes out.
The journey was pretty crazy. The roads up the mountain were rocky (literally), teetering on cliff's edges and sprinkled with a variety of animals - dogs, cats, goats, chicken and even a pack of donkeys. Larry was a great driver. As we drove up the mountain to our location - Mt. Vernon - we drove through Morant Bay, Seaforth, and Trinityville. Sometimes people shouted things at our car (I swear someone called us rednecks) but mostly people just waved.
When we finally got to Mt. Vernon (2 hours later) we arrived at the house. It's a house the community rents out to volunteer groups or individuals. It's better suited for individuals. I was a little nervous when I saw my blue cot, but it was surprisingly comfortable. We met our cooks and had an uneventful dinner. Everyone pretty much crashed and went to bed.
Day Two: Rain, rain...rain
It rained. All day. The road flooded. We were stuck in the house. No phone, no tv. I read The Devil Wears Prada (some other volunteer left it behind) cover to cover while everyone else read Obama's biography. During a quick break from the storms, we hiked up the road to the school at the top. Two little children lead us into the bush to show us the water tank Larry's team helped construct ten years ago. I was trying to catch my breath after the hike when I looked down to notice my legs were coated with mosquitos. Nice! Sensing more rain, we ran back to the house and made it just in time for the next downpour. We were all really worried that the rain would persist all week. I went to bed with the roof leaking on my feet.
Day Three: Meet Mt. Vernon
I decided to try the shower this day. I can only be greasy for so long. It was ice cold, and the tub had bugs crawling from the drain. I kept reminding myself that ten years ago there was no running water in this community, and people had to bathe in the river. Later in the trip, Zulu, our biggest local fan, would tell me that a) even prisoners in America get warm water and b) not to worry because you won't get ringworm from the river in the summer months. I learned to appreciate my icy, bug-infested shower.
Oddly, some people were irritated with how long I spent in the bathroom. However, my room had no doors, so I had to get dressed in the bathroom. My team leader made a weird comment - "Did you enjoy your nice, long shower?" instead of mentioning to me that he felt my 20 minutes were inappropriate for a house of seven other people. This was the first warning sign that he and I would butt heads.
We met in the church with some of the community members. I got anxious because Leighton, the Jamaican leader, told us today was just a day for touring the community and tomorrow we could start work. I had just spent the previous day cooped up in a house with grumpy Americans! I wanted to get started! This was my first lesson in cultural difference. Jamaicans are much more laid-back. They have the attitude of "things will get done when they get done." I'm really envious and wish I could have this mind-set; however, in America, we're always go-go-go! The Jamaicans don't view time as an item. To me, time is a noun - something to kill, to waste, to find, to manage, to plan. I could sense the same thing from my teammates. I wanted to stay respectful of the culture, but I wanted to start working.
Luckily, Leighton took Larry to town for supplies and another man, Mr. Johnson, put us to work. He gave us two hammers (to share between the 9 of us) and told us to smack the concrete against the church's outhouse. I looked at him a little quizzically, but I didn't want to insult him, so I grabbed a hammer and started swinging. So there we were, a bunch of white people whacking a concrete wall with hammers on the mountainside in Jamaica. It was a little weird, but we all had a good laugh over it and took turns whacking away.
Later that day, the kids appeared on their way home from school. We met Tommy and Tameesha and Kootch! Then more friends showed up. They flooded our house. They were fascinated with our ipods. We brought out some of the supplies we'd brought for them - bubbles, coloring books, crayons - and let them have fun. It was the best part of the trip so far for me.
What happened next? Did I whack more concrete? Did I take an even longer shower? Check back soon for more posts : )
WG
Day One: I arrive!
I arrived in Kingston and met my leader outside customs. He was, for lack of better description, very nice and knowledgeable. That opinion would change as the week went on. We gathered the rest of our team and left for Mt. Vernon. The team included an older couple, Jeff and Maureen, who had a tough time adjusting to our accommodations but who worked very hard and were quite lovable by the end. We also had two boys fresh out of high school. Dan was super-easy-going and fit in great with the Jamaicans. Lee was painfully shy but always polite. There was another younger girl, Rachel, a nurse and mom from New York. Lastly, we had Stephanie and her two older children, Riel, 21, and Chavies, 17. Unfortunately, Rachel's bags never made it to Jamaica. She was very even-keel, which I found inspiring, because I'd of been crying my eyes out.
The journey was pretty crazy. The roads up the mountain were rocky (literally), teetering on cliff's edges and sprinkled with a variety of animals - dogs, cats, goats, chicken and even a pack of donkeys. Larry was a great driver. As we drove up the mountain to our location - Mt. Vernon - we drove through Morant Bay, Seaforth, and Trinityville. Sometimes people shouted things at our car (I swear someone called us rednecks) but mostly people just waved.
When we finally got to Mt. Vernon (2 hours later) we arrived at the house. It's a house the community rents out to volunteer groups or individuals. It's better suited for individuals. I was a little nervous when I saw my blue cot, but it was surprisingly comfortable. We met our cooks and had an uneventful dinner. Everyone pretty much crashed and went to bed.
Day Two: Rain, rain...rain
It rained. All day. The road flooded. We were stuck in the house. No phone, no tv. I read The Devil Wears Prada (some other volunteer left it behind) cover to cover while everyone else read Obama's biography. During a quick break from the storms, we hiked up the road to the school at the top. Two little children lead us into the bush to show us the water tank Larry's team helped construct ten years ago. I was trying to catch my breath after the hike when I looked down to notice my legs were coated with mosquitos. Nice! Sensing more rain, we ran back to the house and made it just in time for the next downpour. We were all really worried that the rain would persist all week. I went to bed with the roof leaking on my feet.
Day Three: Meet Mt. Vernon
I decided to try the shower this day. I can only be greasy for so long. It was ice cold, and the tub had bugs crawling from the drain. I kept reminding myself that ten years ago there was no running water in this community, and people had to bathe in the river. Later in the trip, Zulu, our biggest local fan, would tell me that a) even prisoners in America get warm water and b) not to worry because you won't get ringworm from the river in the summer months. I learned to appreciate my icy, bug-infested shower.
Oddly, some people were irritated with how long I spent in the bathroom. However, my room had no doors, so I had to get dressed in the bathroom. My team leader made a weird comment - "Did you enjoy your nice, long shower?" instead of mentioning to me that he felt my 20 minutes were inappropriate for a house of seven other people. This was the first warning sign that he and I would butt heads.
We met in the church with some of the community members. I got anxious because Leighton, the Jamaican leader, told us today was just a day for touring the community and tomorrow we could start work. I had just spent the previous day cooped up in a house with grumpy Americans! I wanted to get started! This was my first lesson in cultural difference. Jamaicans are much more laid-back. They have the attitude of "things will get done when they get done." I'm really envious and wish I could have this mind-set; however, in America, we're always go-go-go! The Jamaicans don't view time as an item. To me, time is a noun - something to kill, to waste, to find, to manage, to plan. I could sense the same thing from my teammates. I wanted to stay respectful of the culture, but I wanted to start working.
Luckily, Leighton took Larry to town for supplies and another man, Mr. Johnson, put us to work. He gave us two hammers (to share between the 9 of us) and told us to smack the concrete against the church's outhouse. I looked at him a little quizzically, but I didn't want to insult him, so I grabbed a hammer and started swinging. So there we were, a bunch of white people whacking a concrete wall with hammers on the mountainside in Jamaica. It was a little weird, but we all had a good laugh over it and took turns whacking away.
Later that day, the kids appeared on their way home from school. We met Tommy and Tameesha and Kootch! Then more friends showed up. They flooded our house. They were fascinated with our ipods. We brought out some of the supplies we'd brought for them - bubbles, coloring books, crayons - and let them have fun. It was the best part of the trip so far for me.
What happened next? Did I whack more concrete? Did I take an even longer shower? Check back soon for more posts : )
WG
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
on hiatus
Hello faithful readers far and few,
I'm off to Jamaica for my two week volunteer vacation! I won't have internet while I'm there, but I promise to journal and blog from that when I get home. Wish me luck!
The Working Girl
I'm off to Jamaica for my two week volunteer vacation! I won't have internet while I'm there, but I promise to journal and blog from that when I get home. Wish me luck!
The Working Girl
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
i can't wait for april 09
... because almost everything I buy for Jamaica is a tax deduction.
And I have a long list. It's
Fundraising Alert:
I sent out letters to my friends and family asking for support in purchasing my plane ticket. The cost of the trip was $2000 and does not include air fare. My plane ticket was $400. I only had enough for half the ticket. I appealed to my wonderful friends and family for support. I sent out enough letters so that if half the people responded with the amount I was asking, it would equal $200. The response was overwhelming. My friends and family sent enough to cover the entire cost of the ticket and renewal of my passport (additional $100). I am so wonderfully blessed and lucky and a whole other world of thankful emotions. From the bottom of my heart - thank you, thank you, thank you.
Other Tax-Deductible News:
Check out my friend Karla's fundraising page by clicking on the widget to the left. She's raising money for First Coast No More Homeless Pets - am amazing organization working to educate and help the public spay and neuter their pets. This is the one of the best ways to help stop the euthanizing of thousands of adoptable animals a day. If you feel inclined, send Karla and FCNMHP some love.
And I have a long list. It's
Fundraising Alert:
I sent out letters to my friends and family asking for support in purchasing my plane ticket. The cost of the trip was $2000 and does not include air fare. My plane ticket was $400. I only had enough for half the ticket. I appealed to my wonderful friends and family for support. I sent out enough letters so that if half the people responded with the amount I was asking, it would equal $200. The response was overwhelming. My friends and family sent enough to cover the entire cost of the ticket and renewal of my passport (additional $100). I am so wonderfully blessed and lucky and a whole other world of thankful emotions. From the bottom of my heart - thank you, thank you, thank you.
Other Tax-Deductible News:
Check out my friend Karla's fundraising page by clicking on the widget to the left. She's raising money for First Coast No More Homeless Pets - am amazing organization working to educate and help the public spay and neuter their pets. This is the one of the best ways to help stop the euthanizing of thousands of adoptable animals a day. If you feel inclined, send Karla and FCNMHP some love.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
my blogging disclaimer
I really hate sentences that begin, "No offense, but..."
Why not just say, "I'm about to say something hurtful, but you can't get mad because I used a disclaimer."
When will people realize that no matter what you put before a 'but', it doesn't take away from what comes after. So, if you're going to insult me, or anyone else for that matter, just come out and say it. Or keep it to yourself. Not everyone is interested in your opinions. Disclaimers are for people who do not want to take responsibility. However, if you say it, take the damn responsibility or keep your mouth shut.
I don't believe in disclaimers and I don't believe in hurting people's feelings. I will always apologize if something I said hurt you. If you know me at all, you know that is not my intention.
So, no offense, but this blog does not come with a disclaimer.
Why not just say, "I'm about to say something hurtful, but you can't get mad because I used a disclaimer."
When will people realize that no matter what you put before a 'but', it doesn't take away from what comes after. So, if you're going to insult me, or anyone else for that matter, just come out and say it. Or keep it to yourself. Not everyone is interested in your opinions. Disclaimers are for people who do not want to take responsibility. However, if you say it, take the damn responsibility or keep your mouth shut.
I don't believe in disclaimers and I don't believe in hurting people's feelings. I will always apologize if something I said hurt you. If you know me at all, you know that is not my intention.
So, no offense, but this blog does not come with a disclaimer.
Friday, June 6, 2008
I am
tired of second guessing.
excited to go to Jamaica.
sad no one really reads my blog.
however, glad I have a few good internet girlies out there.
sick of apologizing for things that aren't my fault.
not interesting in being someone's affair.
better than a consolation prize.
bombastically psyched that summer is finally here.
wishing I fixed the a/c in my car last summer.
ready for a good time, for once.
excited to go to Jamaica.
sad no one really reads my blog.
however, glad I have a few good internet girlies out there.
sick of apologizing for things that aren't my fault.
not interesting in being someone's affair.
better than a consolation prize.
bombastically psyched that summer is finally here.
wishing I fixed the a/c in my car last summer.
ready for a good time, for once.
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