Overview

For the past ten days, I have been living and working in the rural village of Boston Bay, located in the parish of Portland, Jamaica.  I traveled with 21 other music education students from all across the United States, and we were so fortunate to be able to be completely immersed in Jamaican culture.  When I told family and friends that I would be heading to Jamaica, I got one of two reactions: 1) "Oh my goodness, that is so so exciting!  Which resort?" or 2) "Be very, very careful...it's dangerous to travel over there."

I can definitely say that both of these reactions made me a bit apprehensive in different ways.  The first made me anxious because I knew that I would not be staying in a resort or experiencing the Jamaica that these people knew of.  There would be no swim-up bar or air conditioning or room service.  I knew that I would not be staying in luxury, and that I would be interacting with Jamaicans, not tourists.  A vacation at a resort is predictable (you know exactly what you're getting into, and you know it will be relaxing).  A service trip is much different.  In short, I had no clue what I was getting myself into, and that made me nervous.

The second reaction made me anxious because I had heard countless times that Jamaica was not safe.  I heard that women could not walk alone at any time of day, that the extreme levels of poverty made the place riddled with crime, that two people from the Lehigh Valley had just been murdered in Kingston, Jamaica while on a service trip.  The book I read before the trip, "Going Home to Teach" by Anthony C. Winkler made me believe all of these things, too (the book covered the descent of Jamaica into socialism during the 1970s and the political unrest that ensued as a result).  So, all of these tidbits of information definitely made me apprehensive about the trip.

However, upon arrival and during my stay, I can confidently say that very few of my preconceptions about Jamaica and its culture were correct (at least in Boston Bay).  Yes, there is widespread poverty and people make next to nothing (the average person in Jamaica makes $15 a day).  But, they do not want for very much, their communities are very close-knit, and they find joy in little everyday occurrences.  They do not hate Americans or tourists.  Many Jamaicans are happy when they have visitors to give them more business.

During my entire visit, I never felt concerned for my safety or the safety of those traveling with me.  Our neighbors welcomed us with open arms and allowed us to become a part of their village for our ten days there.  We got to know the locals very well and looked forward to our daily visits to the Jerk Center (to get Jerk Chicken and Festival Bread), the fruit stand (the pineapple was divine), and the ice cream shop (flavors included rum and coffee, grapenut, and dragon stoudt).  We exchanged special Jamaican handshakes with everyone we saw on the street (a fist bump with our thumbs snapping together or elbow bumps) and greetings of "Wah gwaan" (Patois for "what's going on?") and "Respect."

At the end of the trip, I concluded that no culture is better or worse than another, they are simply different.  Throughout this blog, I hope to recount my experiences in Jamaica and document what I've learned about the Jamaican lifestyle and culture. Through journal entries, pictures, notes, and souvenirs, I have so many pieces of Jamaica that will stay with me through my entire life, and I would love to share them all with you here.