Jamaica Reflections

The first four days provided quick, powerful rains. I wish I had savored them even more. I was in a routine of assuming this was a daily event, and spent the rest of the vacation hoping for more. The rains in Washington, DC are ever lacking, so I relish when a good rain presents itself--no matter where in the world I find myself. I still miss the Lesotho rains on the tin roof of my school, nothing will compete with those! I briefly mentioned the Jamaican rains resulting in rainbows. I'm unsure if this was just the coincidence in the rains I saw, but how's that for every rain providing a follow up rainbow. I certainly won't forget the spectacular-ity of such events.

There are crabs all over Jamaica. I've never visited a place where the crabs roam as freely. In Jamaica, I had to watch where I stepped to avoid crushing them. The land is their land, clearly And boy are the crabs shy! They're not apt to photography; I tried my level best, but routinely came up shy.

Typical of most foreign nations, the signage is intriguing. There is not a sign in Jamaica I wouldn't stop to read. I shot more than 100 photographs of various signs along the way. While I recognize I could use some schooling in grammar and punctuation, there is certainly a lack of editing prior to printing throughout Jamaica.

There are feral and stray dogs galore. While those mutts were harmless, there were unfriendly guard dogs everywhere. I did manage three runs in Treasure Beach, though I often felt unsafe. The dogs lining property fences pop out of nowhere. There were several "guard" dogs (along with strays) that seemingly just wanted to follow me, whether walking or running, but the unpredictable snarls were enough to keep me at unease and allow my mind to wander. What would I do if I was attacked while venturing around? I've never really been a risk taker, I'm less so in my late 20s.

The Jamaican tide is unchanging. There is no low or high tide. There is a shoreline (or retaining wall) that remains constant throughout the day and night. This was a first to me. I'm curious as to why the tide doesn't change, or if there are places in Jamaica where it does.

The colors - both painted and natural - made the entire country radiate energy.

There were abandoned house everywhere. If you're looking for a water-front, fixer-upper, Jamaica is the place for you and yours. While some of these houses look as though they were loved and cherished at one point, others look at those the builder/developer was distracted mid-task. The whole of it is quite bizarre.

The fish of is so, so bony. And while yummy, it's a whole lot of work, unless you're local and you know exactly what you're doing. For those of us travelers, it's a welcomed slower pace.

And despite starting the trip by vomiting my guts out after a treacherous ride and beginning the second day by ruining the sheets with a bloody nose, I hope that won't be the last of my travels with the B family.

My Bestie

This is a response to the Nobody’s Cuter Than You request by Big Mama. Without further ado, here’s how J.L.W. entered my life for good.

My family had recently uprooted our stable, homogenous Midwestern selves from Kansas City, Kansas to a much smaller Blythewood, South Carolina. In dire need of local friends, I joined the high school cross country team. I spent August, September, and October—the entire season—running mostly alone, hoping someday one of my teammates would materialize into a friend, a “replacement(s) not replacement(s)” for the friend(s) I’d left behind. After the state meet, I had the opportunity to run one more race in Charlotte, North Carolina with a select group of runners from the team. This was going to be fun, I’d hoped. I roomed with two girls, both a year younger than me. This having been the Friday after Thanksgiving, I was wired. Hi, my name is S and I love dessert. Hello, holidays. Bring on the apple pie, cranberries cupcakes, pumpkin spice cookies, etcetera ad nauseam—I will eat you all. J.L.W., my friend-to-be, humored herself with my antics. I’m not sure if she was laughing with or at me. I do remember we didn’t get much sleep that night. So desperate for a friend, it—the laughing and sleep—truthfully didn’t matter.

The trip ended, yet our friendship grew and grew and grew into the big, mighty awesome gift that it is today. There was the brilliant idea to consume a gallon of McAlister's beverages--lemonade for me, sweet tea for her--before a mile run at an invitational track meet. There were countless "locker room parties" on cold (and windy!) South Carolina days. And then there was college. J.L.W. “followed” me to Clemson University—Go Tigers!—during my sophomore year where there were football games galore and a few too many late nights. We also managed plenty of early mornings camping out for football (or basketball) tickets. When ESPN’s College GameDay came to town, we were there at 5:00 am to begin cheering. And we kept on cheering until the conclusion of the 8:00 pm game… at midnight. There was also a camping trip we survived in the sub-freezing temperatures in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We concluded my junior year with a twenty-hour round trip drive to Cleveland, Ohio—for the weekend—where we insisted on listening to J.L.W.’s iPod in A to Z order. In the following year, we implemented a Tuesday night dinner club, where it was understood she would cook and I would consume.

 

Those four years had to come to an end, and when they did, I left for Peace Corps. We remained equally close, though we were limited to expensive, monthly phone calls. I returned to Northern Virginia while she had long settled in Columbia, SC. Having already mastered long distance friendship, we’ve maintained friendship just the same. We sometimes meet for incredible two-week adventures in the Pacific Northwest, other times we take unplanned long weekend trips to a random meeting places, like the most recent Asheville, North Carolina outing.

We have a big milestone ahead: J.L.W. is getting hitched, while I stand right beside her. Her second best friend, D.P.C, of oh so many years, but not as many years, recently proposed! I like him because he respects (and accepts?) my competitive personality. I’ll always be her first place friend; I’ve known her the longest. And I might love her the most.

Apples picked. Pumpkins patched.

This last weekend was the Washington, D.C. area''s first fall-like weekend. The mornings were crisp with an almost winter scent. As the days wore on and the sun to rose, the earth was heated to give us comfortable, warm afternoons. And with that, Boyfriend and I partook in the quintessential fall activity: apple picking. I have only picked apples two other times in my life, and the first time, I don’t actually remember picking a whole lot of apples from trees so much as purchasing pre-picked apples from barrels. Regardless, visiting apple orchards has recently become the thing I look forward to most about fall, more so than even football and pumpkin-spiced everything. With at least eight varieties to pick from, caramel apple rewards, and cider - heavenly cider - it's hard not to anticipate this outing. 

Is it gorgeous everywhere apples grow?

We’ve found our apple picking home at Hartland Orchard, in the not so distant Markham, Virginia, where the trees are already turning. And the drive there is littered with fall colors, which is simply delightful.

We couldn't leave without bringing home our pumpkin, from the conveniently attached patch. This year there wasn’t a bad pumpkin in sight, which made it tough to find a pumpkin with the character, necessary in the likely event our pumpkin is gutted for seeds and left uncarved; he needs to stand alone.

It’s actually fun to pluck the perfect apple from each tree (and a pumpkin from the patch). All the while dreaming of the delicious goods that will come. We brought home a bushel of apples, a gallon and a half of cider, and a pumpkin for seeding. The caramel apples didn't survive the trip out of the parking lot. We demolished them while an elderly man and his grandson pressed apples into our cider. Since this weekend, I’ve made a delicious apple fritter cake and a batch of applesauce. I've also consumed a good many apples smothered in almond butter.

An apple a day keeps the doctor at bay. 

Team Mathias Walk-A-Thon

On Sunday, a walk-a-thon was held to raise continued awareness of childhood cancer and above-all support Mathias in his personal fight. The pictures speak for themselves. This community is fighting for Team Mathias. It was a moving event--SO many people showed up, from infants to teenagers, adults to grandparents; we walked for Mathias. 

The neighbor streets and driveways were littered with Team Mathias emblems.

There were motivational signs standing along with half-mile loop.

People set up water stations in their front yards to quench the thirsty of sweaty walkers.

Mailboxes were strung with gold balloons.

There was a quilt signed by all the walkers for Team Mathias.

The neighbor club house was filled with festivity--a DJ, food, games, a silent auction, and decorations galore.

Ike Hilliard even joined in on the fun!

And the late September heat stopped no one, hundreds of people walked lap after lap with smiles on their faces.

To make this day possible, dozens volunteered. I'm grateful for today. We love Team Mathias.