Babylon by Bus: In Closing the Trip Home(REVISITED)
By Bill
Evans
The strange sound of the Abeng horn was echoing through the town
as Sergio and I lay in bed and just stared across the room at each
other with wide grins. This was our last morning in Jamaica, and
Marshall, in his own way, was letting everyone know that his new
friends were leaving today. Sergio and I took turns using the outdoor
privy and the zinc shower enclosure as we prepared to pack for our
return trip. We were not leaving for the airport until around noon
as our flight was scheduled to leave about 5:00pm and the ride over
the mountains takes less than three hours.
Once packed, Sergio and I went down the road into
town to say goodbye to the new friends we had made in such a short
time. We had brought ten disposable cameras with us on the trip
but had four cameras remaining unused so we passed them out when
we arrived. We now went around collecting them so we could process
the film for the people and mail back the pictures. We encouraged
them to take pictures of their children, houses and sights they
were most proud of and we showed them and their children how to
use the cameras. We had such an enthusiastic response, that I now
take several on every trip!
Colonel Rowe was waving to us from up the road
so Sergio and I excused ourselves and walked up to meet him. He
asked us to please have breakfast with him and his family and we
graciously accepted. While waiting for breakfast to be served, Colonel
Rowe pulled out a scrapbook/photo album and began to tell us about
all the articles and pictures it contained. I hate to have people
put me throughout this agony at home but this was something special
as some of the articles dated to the late 1920's. The pictures came
from around the same time when Colonel Rowe's father began the collection.
The most prized photograph was one with Colonel Rowe's father and
the late Marcus Garvey taken in New York as the "Back To Africa"
movement was being planned. We had a wonderful breakfast of johnny
cakes, ackee and salt fish and fried plantains while we talked about
the Maroon Culture and the area where Sergio and I lived in the
United States. We thanked the Colonel and his family for all their
hospitality as the Colonel stamped and signed our passports and
then we bid them all a fond farewell. Sergio and I continued our
walk around the community as we stopped and paid our respects to
all the wonderful people we had met. We went to E.G.'s store and
hung out with her and her family. She brewed us a cup of Milo and
we had a spirited game of dominoes until Marshall and Orel, our
driver, drove up and came over to the table.
Marshall suggested we start out a little early
so he could show us some places on the way to Montego Bay. We agreed,
grabbed our bags, and got into Orel's car for the trip. Marshall
asked if we would mind going to Quick Step first as he needed to
see a cousin who was a furniture maker and we said that of course
we would not. Marshall went on to explain that he worked cutting
hardwoods like mahogany and blue mahoe for his cousin to convert
into chairs, tables and headboards to sell in a Kingston furniture
store. We drove up the narrow, rutted road to Quick Step where maybe
forty or so people live in a small community rarely visited by outsiders.
Marshall told Orel to park next to a large pile of sawdust coming
down a chute from a building where we heard the whirl of machinery.
We entered the building where Marshall's cousin had engineered a
ripsaw to cut rough lumber from the logs Marshall supplied. Beside
the saw was a crude planer to surface the sides and flat surfaces
of the rough cut planks. A lathe was busily spinning with a four-by-four
post that would soon become a leg for the ornate bed frame he was
constructing. Marshall introduced Sergio and me to his cousin. His
cousin took us into a small storeroom where he showed us several
bed frames and tables he was finishing for shipment to customers
in the United States and Canada.
Now I learned the reason for Marshall wanting
to stop as we loaded two tables on to the roof of Orel's car to
take to Montego Bay to ship for him. I always admired how people
pulled together to help each other make a living in such a difficult
economy and the Maroons do just that! What a sight we were in a
lime-green Toyota with two dining room tables on the roof! We left
the secondary road and headed out on the main road toward Montego
Bay. As we crested the top of a hill, Marshall asked Orel to pull
over as he bid us to get out of the car for a moment. Upon exiting,
Sergio and I saw why we stopped as Marshall pointed to the canyons
and hills in the distance and a wedge of blue Caribbean between
the two most distant peaks.
Marshall said that what we were seeing was a beach
area in Trelawney about 20 miles away. We got back into the car
and proceeded towards Montego Bay passing through Jericho, Mount
Horeb and other towns with biblical sounding names as we began the
slow, winding descent into civilization. I looked back at Marshall
and Sergio in the back seat each looking out their respective rolled
down windows. I thought about how I had become so close to each
of them in such a short time. That made me smile. We entered Montego
Bay on the west end out by the shipping pier and started heading
into town. I was glad when Orel needed to stop downtown to see a
gal he knew as this was where the story began.
I now looked at all the hustle and bustle in
a completely different way. I actually invited the intimate contact
that these higglers provided. I realized I was already getting homesick
and did not want to go. We wound our way along the "Hip Strip" and
watched the tourists and wondered if they were having a good time
too. We wanted everyone to have the time we were having! We pulled
into Sangster Airport and Orel popped the bonnet so we could grab
our packs. This was the moment I dreaded the most, saying goodbye
to a good friend. Marshall reached out and hugged us both and invited
us back to stay with him anytime we were on the island and we promised.
We paid Orel for the trip and he shook our hands and offered his
car anytime we needed it as well and we thanked him very much.
Sergio and I hefted our packs onto our backs and
turned around to wave a final goodbye. We walked towards the electronic
doors that held back the cool air conditioning that we no longer
wanted or needed, when someone yelled, "Bill and Sergio!" There
was Derrick Byron from Port Antonio leaning against the building
with the 3' Rasta carving I had so admired in his shop. I had promised
to buy it for $90 US if he brought it to the airport and there he
was! He rose from the sidewalk and shook our hands. He had wrapped
the carving in a protective piece of brown paper and plastic that
had my name scrawled on the outside. I had a $100 US bill that I
carry in case of emergency and I gave it to Derrick. He said he
could get change at the taxi area but I caught his arm and said
"No problem, mon!" He grinned broadly and thanked us both very much
and bid us a safe trip. We took our packs and the carving and passed
through the doors into a different world. Yes, it was Jamaica, mon!
No Problem!!
Respect Bill Evans
Need help in planning your
adventure travel while in Jamaica. Feel free to email me at the
following addresses : accompong98@yahoo.com
OR accompong2000@aol.com
See
the other Articles written by Bill
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