Alright day two in Boston Bay was much better than day one. After getting a good nights sleep I was able to get up at 7:30am without too much problem. I am a little scared that my depression will creep out while I am here. I don’t want to advertise that I have depression. I am not sure if it’s because secretly I think it’s embarrassing or maybe it’s just no one business? My close friends no but I guess it’s just something that is personal.
Once again I have problems relating to people here. I am going to try hard not to say anything to anyone else that could be considered gossip but sometimes I just don’t like people. I wonder why that is. Is it because their outlook on life is so different then mine? Is that what bothers me? If so that’s not really a good reason not to like some one. Hmm. Whatever the reason I am going to be nice to them and…. Haha… repress my feelings? This probably isn’t going to turn out well.
Well now that that issue is off my chest let’s move on to my day. I got a taxi with Marijana to the shelter. Every taxi ride in Jamaica I think is going to be my last. My driver told me to put my seatbelt on while in the front seat. I asked him “Why are you going to be dangerous?” He laughed and said “No, not dangerous. The cops may see us though.” I got in the car and just assumed there were no seatbelts. We got to the shelter, which is more like a bungalow that has been turned into a shelter, and met some of the workers. We got a tour of the place and they told us some of the things they were needing help with. They want me to work with the “drug abusers” and Marijana will work with the “mentally ill.” Fuck, talk about oppressive language. I know, I know, I should be more sensitive... I digress. Both Marijanna sat and talked to the residents and they were all pretty nice. It didn’t seem to have that shelter vibe. The walls were all painted in murals and everyone was just kind of laying around. We sat in the office and discussed how the shelter works and what they would like us to do. Pretty much they want us to help them get more funding, do train the trainer work and help the residents do projects like beach clean-up and collect cans for money.
We went down the street for lunch at this rasta place, which aka means it’s vegetarian which aka generally means that it’s vegan. The one thing that is good about developing countries is that dairy is a luxury. Marijana and I actually went to this place when we stayed for the extra week last time we were here. I can’t believe it’s the same place. The guy who runs it is named Oliver. I am eating there every day for sure, he is the best.
We left the shelter around 3pm, even though they want us to stay until 5pm to cover the time when no one is there. Yeah that’s right, when no one is there. There is a period of 1-2 hours when there is no staff at the shelter. That would never happen in Canada. It seems to work though. I am sure it is when people get into shenanigans though but maybe they need that time and they will protect the shelter from intruders. It’s so small and only holds about 15 max so everyone knows everyone else. Somehow it works.
I came back to the hut and went straight for the Oreos, people were trying to ask me how my day was and all I wanted was to get to my suitcase and attack those Oreos. Eventually I made it to my hut and the double stuff oreos and I did a dirty dance. They are going to be my reward for working every day. What a lame excuse just to eat Oreos. I joined some of the others girls down at the beach and we drank some vodka and relaxed. The scenery here is so beautiful. It’s postcard perfect. Some guy named Chris chatted me up, a 32 year old single dad. How sexy… the thing is, he is actually pretty good looking. I don’t think I could every really be with a Jamaican man though, non of the Jamaican men that I know or have met here are into the same stuff I am. And let’s be honest, I’m talking music here. Since that is such a huge part of my life, I would find it hard to be into a guy who doesn’t like rock music. Dance hall, are you fucking serious? Dance hall sucks! As I type this I am listening to Rancid’s Out Come the Wolves. Yeah, I’m a white girl.
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