I have been encouraged to start blogging for at least three years now and I have finally taken the kick in my knee to do so. That’s the thing about a new year… its new and nice and fresh and makes you feel like you can take on the world. I believe we need that sometimes, that extra jolt of “do tings before tings do yuh” kind of vibe. We all know how it feels when December comes and that “the year done quick een” rings in your ear.
I am doing this because, I have been meaning to do it for way too long now. I am doing this because I get anxious when there is nothing to do. I am doing this because, I have read a dozen self-help books that has all started with the line “just start”. I am doing this because my love for Jamaica and travelling is so real, and nothing beats a country trip, especially to Portland. I am doing this because I’m a country gyal.
I moved to Kingston when I was 10 years old and many people will think that I was too young and I don’t remember much, but that’s not true. I lived on Titchfield Hill, right across from the popular high school in what we Jamaicans call “a board house” There was no veranda, so I opened my front door and could step right outside with the most beautiful view of the ocean. Which at the time was my normal. I was my mother’s hand bag, purse and her shoe strings. She walked me to and from my Preparatory School and because it was just me and her alone, I was pretty much grown only by her and the staff where she worked, The Port Antonio Tax Office.
The library was maybe thirty steps from her office, and that’s where I spent all summers. They had an arts and crafts program where my love for making things began. The next half of the summer was split between visiting each of my grandmothers. One was from St. Thomas (BUSH and cane fields) and the other was from St. Mary (likkle less Bush, but still BUSH) I loved them both for the difference they had to offer. When in St. Thomas, we roasted fish on barrel tops outside, caught water at the neighbourhood stand pipe, and bathed before buying ice cream after Sunday dinner, as that was an “outing” believe it or not. When in St. Mary we walked to the river where “cow itch” was more feared than bad man, we pounded almonds and made almond drops and scraped clay from the earth and made doll house “furniture”. I loved it.
I love where I am from and I love the experiences I had growing up living in country. This is why I am doing this, to show people what Jamaica has to offer.
Being Jamaican is a lifestyle, it’s a culture, and it’s a VIBE!