Heading Home

I am sitting in the Montego Bay airport waiting to board my plane, which won't happen for another two hours. We made the 4 hour trip here without a hitch after leaving Great Huts at 5:30 this morning. One by one members of our group are boarding their planes, and the Domino's Pizza next to me is another testament that our trip really has come to an end (Meanwhile, I'm savoring my Ital leftovers from last night).

Friday we worked a half day at the infirmary. We split up into small groups and were able to have a short session with everyone there. Closure is always tricky, and this was especially sad, because we are often the only visitors they will have until another JAFSP group comes through in a year. When they asked us when we would be back, Eric told us to say that we won't be coming back, but another group will be coming soon. "Just tell them that another group will always be coming." They weren't sad, but instead wished us safe travels and blessings.

We left the infirmary at noon and headed to a nearby beach - Long Bay Beach. It was absolutely beautiful, the postcard picture that you think of when you imagine a Jamaican beach. A long stretch of white sand, scattered with palm trees accompanied by large crashing waves. We were all so relieved to have made it through such a rewarding and trying week, and the mood was happy. We enjoyed a lunch in the beach restaurant Chill Out and made the most of the sun and surf. We even exfoliated ourselves with sand to get rid of all the built up sunscreen and bugspray. I got knocked around a few times by the big waves, but couldn't stop giggling. It was a good day for everyone.

Friday night, Eric hired a group of Kumina drummers, some of the best around he said. Kumina is a style of drumming that is performed at Dead Yards, which is a celebration 9 days after someone's death. They play and dance all night as a way of keeping the "duppy" (like a ghost) away. This group played for 2 and a half hours, and I got to dance a bit, even though I had no clue what I was doing. It was still really interesting, and I managed to get some video of this Jamaican tradition.

The Kumina group left around midnight, and a good deal of us headed down the street to the sports bar for some more dancing. The music was SO loud that I wore earplugs so as not to do permanent damage to my hearing. Unfortunately, the ear plugs blocked a good deal out, so I couldn't really talk to anyone and really felt like I was a second behind everything. It was kind of isolating, and I really didn't want to dance with a Jamaican guy, so I soon retired to the pool table to people watch with Jen and Ryan. We left about an hour into the night, but it was still a late night.

On Saturday, we all went into Port Antonio, a nearby city, to the open air market - very similar to the strip district in Pittsburgh, except for the awesome produce, which really made me wish I had a kitchen down here. Eric set us loose for an hour, and we all returned a few dollars poorer than we had left. I managed to get some nice souvenirs for mom and dad (it is Father's Day, afterall...) and got some cool coconut bowls for myself. When we got back to Great Huts, we had the whole day to our liesure. The undertown was strong, so I didn't spend much time in the water. I took my time packing, deciding what I wanted to leave for the Peace Corps to distribute, and how I could manage to fit everything I wanted to bring back (my bag weighed 48 lbs today - score!)

Each night, Eric has led us in about an hour of Jamaican and African drumming. All week, our goal has been to perform for the town, which we did last night. Around 9 o'clock, sitting in a large circle at the only intersection in town, we began our performance. Local men and some kids danced and played shakers in the middle of our circle. Lots of people came out to see us, and everyone had a great time, even if our arms were getting tired by the end. Some of the groundsmen at Great Huts started a bonfire on the beach afterward, and the music therapy students gave out awards for each other based on funny things that had happened during the week. My award was "Most likely to say something sarcastic with a completely flat affect." Not exactly sure that's a good thing, but I was just glad to end my "Most quiet" streak (I always get that one in these sorts of situations). I hit the pillow about 1:30, and when my alarm went off at 4:30, it took a little coaxing to get me out of bed. Surprisingly, all 29 of us made it on the van on time, and much to Eric's surprise I am sure, we left on time.

Now I am just waiting for 1:30 to roll around so I can board my plane. I fly to Detroit with a two hour layover, and then on to Pittsburgh. Thanks to everybody who has read this and thanks to mom and dad for giving me the opportunity to have this experience. Nearly everyone on this trip has referred to it as life changing at some point, and I have to say I agree. I know I'll be in for a culture shock when I get back to the states. Jamaica is a third world country, and although I initially came here to impact its citizens, they were the ones to had the greater impact. Their simple way of life, generosity, and humility will stay with me for a long time, and I can't wait to take what I've learned and pay it forward.


Here I am with Sazi, the Rasta whose food I loved so much. I got his vegetable soup recipe, and he even gave me some Jamaican spices to bring home. He tried to give me a coconut as well, but I told him it probably wouldn't make it through customs.


My friend Alice enjoying Long Bay Beach


Alice and I after a long week of work


Lindsay and I at Long Bay Beach


All the music therapy majors at the bonfire on Saturday night with our "awards." The hand sign was part of an ongoing joke between us.

The Last Full Day of Work

Sorry for the hiatus - we've been going a mile a minute down here.

Thursday was our last full day of work. My group and the MT-BC supervisor from Molloy College went back to the School of Hope. Needless to say, I was pretty excited. Both sites were extremely educational, but I really preferred working with the children.

In order to get practicum credit for my time here, I have to make sure certain aspects of clinical work at OU are accounted for here. In particular, I was to focus on improvisation skills. This was kind of hard to do, especially because we spent most of our time at the infirmary. Many of the residents were not in the condition to do in depth improvistional experiences, especially since we had so many residents to work with. Therefore, I waited until I returned to the school to work improv into the session. Our supervisor Evelyn is a very improvisatory music therapist, so working out an appropriate experience was pretty easy. We decided that I would lead an experience called "Come to the Drum."

Procedures:
1. Sit the children in a circle with two drums and chairs in the middle. Pass out drums to each student and ask them to play and sing along.
2. Sing the song "Come, come, come. Come to the drum. Amy come, come to the drum." When the client comes to the drum, keep singing, "beat, beat, beat. Beat on the drum." The music therapist might sing things like "watch her play, she can play the drum, listen to her play, etc."
3. Ask the other students to put their drums on the ground. As the student begins to play, the music therapist might match what they are doing, or they might engage in a call and response, taking turns repeating each other. Depending on how the improvisation is going, this might last for a few minutes or only a few seconds.
4. Using judgement, the therapist will ask the student to return to their chair, and the whole process will start over again.

For the most part, this went pretty well, but I was a little nervous at first. Most of the improvisation I have done in practicum involves the client improvising over the therapist's steady beat or chord progression. This kind of improv required more active participation from me, which was fun, but also difficult for me. At OU, we don't focus as much on improv as other places, but the more time I spent around it, the more I liked it. Check out this two part video to see more about improv-based music therapy: 1st video, 2nd video.

As per usual, the kids were adorable and loving. At one point, a girl took my camera and got some pretty funny photos of her classmates and us. Saying goodbye was a little sad, but it's hard to be upset when they're so happy you came in the first place. A few girls were very sweet, though, and hold us how much they will miss us. We'll miss them, too.

Thursday night, Eric showed us a documentary about the economic crisis in Jamaica, "Life and Debt." It was really interesting and a little depressing, but very educational. Unfortunately, many of us were so tired that we had a hard time watching the whole thing without nodding off a few times. I'd like to rewatch it sometime when I am not so tired! One thing that has struck me throughout this whole experience is the generosity and kindness the Jamaican people possess. Many literally have only a tarp over their heads with not enough money to go to the grocery store (groceries are very expensive here because nearly everything is imported), yet they are the friendliest people I have ever met. Walking down "main street" in Boston Bay, people wave to you, ask you how you are, shake your hands, make sure you are enjoying your stay, etc., etc. A perfect example of the negative correlation between money and happiness.


One of my favorite students playing the tambourine


My music therapy group on our last day at the School of Hope


The kids loved our cameras, and one girl managed to capture this gem after stealing mine. Note the impish hand in the right corner and the camera struggle in the left corner.

Infirmary Take Two

As you could probably tell from yesterday's post, I wasn't too fond of the infirmary. I won't pretend that I wasn't a little apprehensive about spending the whole day there again today. However, as the day progressed, I found myself pleasantly surprised and pleased.

Just as we spent yesterday morning in the homeless shelter, a different group of four went there this morning, leaving our group of four to work without a supervisor. We began around 10am in a room full of men. These men were not as sick as those from yesterday, therefore their surroundings were a little more clean and they were able to respond well. As with yesterday, we did mostly sing alongs, but didn't quite have a set order. Rather, we asked them for requests or chose songs based on how they were reacting. They were a great group, and we stayed with them for over an hour and a half. I know they must have been tired when we left, because I sure was. I sweat through much of my shirt about 15 minutes in, but they just kept playing and singing their hearts out. One man in particular grew rather fond of me. He was blind, so I had to help him into the room by holding both of his hands and walking backwards. He kept saying "Okay sweet honey," or "All right honey buns," to everything I said. He wanted to be in a constant embrace and copped a feel a few times. Guess that's what happens when you work with old men. During one song, Heather got a few of them up and dancing, which was really dear. While we were singing goodbye, one man held on to her and cried. Needless to say, it was a rewarding session.

When we were wrapping things up, the group from the homeless shelter met up with us and we headed to another room to do a session before lunch. We got about 20 minutes into it when the staff started serving food and the residents got distracted. This room was particularly sad, as they were not as clean or healthy as the first room, but we promised that we would be back when they were finished with lunch.

Since the infirmary is in Port Antonio, we just walked down the hill to another restaurant. I got carry out from an Ital restaurant, which was really good. No one else wanted Ital, so I brought mine next door where everyone else was having fried chicken. My curried potatoes, dumplings an ackee was much better, though, if you ask me.

Soon it was time to head back up to the infirmary for a few more sessions. Three of us broke into one group to work with two women alone in a room. Both were sleeping, or close to it, so we just sang traditional songs slowly and softly as they rested. We left them and sang a little with some people sitting outside on the sidewalk and soon gathered more people. Two men with amputated legs and happy personalities really enjoyed singing a Jamaican song called "Hold 'em Joe," and they sang loudly back and forth, giggling and smiling.

When the other group was ready, we headed back to the larger men's ward to finish the session. Many of them were sleeping their lunches off, so we kept the session pretty calm. We kept it pretty short in order to be ready for our bus driver at 3:30.

I won't lie - I wasn't looking forward to going back to the infirmary today. Yesterday I had a hard time keeping my emotions out of the therapy. The conditions these people are living in are so sad, how could I be therapeutic and uplifting while I cried over their situation? Today, however, the shock factor was gone, and I was able to remove myself from the environment and focus on the individuals and their personalities. Yesterday, I was only able to go through the motions, singing the songs and smiling. Today, I was able to actually engage and challenge the residents, which was rewarding for both of us. Tomorrow I will be back at the School of Hope, but I will return to the infirmary for a half day on Friday.


One of the men who loved to sing "Hold 'em Joe


Lunch at an Ital restaurant in Port Antonio

An Eye Opening Experience

As a disclaimer, I should say that some of these facts might be more than I would usually share on a blog. Since I am using this as my personal journal, however, there are some aspects I will reflect on anyway that you might not feel comfortable reading.

In Jamaica, it is customary for children to take care of their elderly in the home, and unlike in the U.S., there are no “retirement homes.” However, each parish does have its own infirmary, and I went to the Portland infirmary today. Unlike nursing homes in the states, however, infirmaries are only for people who have no one to take care of them, or are too ill to be taken care of by family.

Before going to the infirmary, however, we stopped at the homeless shelter just down the road. Dr. Paul, the American doctor who owns great huts, has worked to get this homeless shelter started. He is able to regulate many people on medication as well, which is important, because it is really more of a psychiatric ward than just a shelter. However, when we got there, things weren’t as regulated as we thought. The best word I can think of to describe the situation is chaotic. In Jamaica, there are hardly ever real doors and windows because of the heat. This makes it easy for people to just roam around, and a few stragglers greeted us as we walked up. One resident in particular was very difficult, and only added to the shock initially. She smelled awful, and had a very abrasive personality. Completely ignoring the staff calling her name, she would cross all personal space boundaries and ask us questions we couldn’t understand. Finally, we were able to start the music, however, and she settled down, and even left the room at some points.

Since today was our only visit to the homeless shelter, our goals and experiences were very different than if we would be returning. We did a lot of sing alongs and interactive instrument playing of traditional Jamaican songs. In a group of 5 and at times 7, we were able to give nearly everyone individual attention most of the time. A few residents, including the first one, had schizophrenic behaviors throughout the session, which is something I do not know much about. Others were very compliant, but clearly not typical. One man got ahold of the djembe drum and was clearly very talented, doing licks and rhythms that we are learning from Eric. At times, though, he would revert back to what my supervisor called manic playing, which had little musicality.

We stayed there for about an hour with few hitches, and after the first few minutes, the session went very well. At one point, two clients got into an argument and our supervisor almost got hit with a chair, but plenty of staff were around to break it up before anything happened. We left there and headed up to the infirmary to meet up with the other group who had been working while we were at the shelter. We decided to meet for lunch at noon and went to do one session before that.

It’s really hard to even begin to describe the infirmary. We saw people of many ages, from 40s up to 80s would be my guess. Comprised of 4 or 5 buildings, the compound wasn’t too cramped, but felt a little like a maze. There were people all over, in and out of buildings. Some in wheel chairs, some walking, some sitting in chairs or on the ground. Some clothed, some completely naked. The smell wasn’t terrible, just the very strong presence of urine. Diabetes is rampant in Jamaica, so many of the residents had multiple amputations. Because they are not stretched out, some people lay stuck in contorted positions that were visually shocking.

Before lunch, we worked with a group of men in their room, which had about 12 beds and 6 residents. As with the homeless shelter, we sang a lot of familiar Jamaican songs and just encouraged them to sing along and play simple rhythm instruments. Because these people often have no family, we might be the only visitors they get until the next trip comes through. Therefore, eye contact and touch are very important therapeutic tools to use. We sang songs asking each client how they’re doing today, as well as awareness and individual attention songs. Examples of these include “This Little Light of Mine,” and changing it to “This little light of mine, it’s going to shine on Amy,” or “He’s Got the Whole World,” which we changed to “Amy’s got the maraca in her hands,” using my name as an example. We end with a very touching song which goes like this:

May you be filled with love and kindness

May you be well

May you be peaceful and at ease

May you be happy

May you be happy

Each time we go through to another client and substitute their name for “may you.” Set to a beautiful melody with calming harmonies, this was a great way to end our time together, as each client was surrounded with people and music when it was their turn.

After a quick lunch in town (the infirmary was in Port Antonio), we headed back up to do one more session before the taxi picked us up. This time, we were in a large room with 8 or 9 women. For the most part, everyone was sitting up, and if they were laying down, they were still engaged. Some said the smell was worse than yesterday, but I didn’t think it was too too bad. Lindsay and I took some video of each other and the group, which made one woman want to put her arm around everyone and have us video them together. Every few minutes, she would grab someone, call my name, and nod her head to let me know it was time to video. Needless to say, she’s a bit of a diva. I mostly sat by a sweet lady who would put her head on her knees so I would rub her head and scratch her back.

We finished up after about an hour and went to debrief. Soon, the taxi came and we were on our way back to Great Huts, and I was trying to get it out of my head. Needless to say, it is a very unique experience - sad, eye opening, rewarding, disturbing.

Eric had made reservations for us all to go to the Ital Rastafarian restaurant just down the street for dinner. Ital is the kind of food Rastas eat, and it comes from a play on the word “vital” or “vitality.” Tonight, we got the full meal, starting with soup, and ending with fruit for dessert. The soup was amazing, and I plan to go back during the day before we leave to ask for the recipe. I know the broth had a coconut base, and he used a variety of seasonings. He used okra, potatoes, dumplings, peas, carrots, etc., which were so so good. Actual dinner consisted of beans and rice, some kind of cabbage slaw, and vegetable protein similar to the soy meats you might find in tofurky or fake meats. Obviously, his “fake meat” was far less processed, as the Rastas believe in being all natural. It was so good, and lots of people actually thought it was real chicken. I knew it wasn’t, though, because I asked him just to make sure - it did look like meat!

After dinner, we drummed like usual and planned for the next day. I found myself falling asleep during the drumming, so went to bed pretty early, but only after Rudolph (the night watch) made me another cup of tea using the bushes that Lion sent back with us. Tonight was lemongrass and a strong flavored bush for blood detox. It was so good, but had me up at 4 in the morning with a full bladder.

We have a full week ahead of us, but it’s hard to believe we are already 6 days into the 11 day trip. Eric said it would go fast; I guess he knows what he’s talking about!


Lindsay and a resident enjoying music at the infirmary


Enjoying my first Ital experience at Sazi's "restaurant"

School of Hope

It's hard to believe that training is already over. I know it seems like I've been doing nothing but work down here, but we have actually been learning a lot to prepare us for our field experiences. Today was our first day, and my group consisting of Heather, Alice, Kristen, Tracy (one of two MT-BC supervisors) and I went the the School of Hope. The School of Hope has many locations across Jamaica, one in each parish for a total of 14. Children that are deaf, or have CP, Cognitive Delay (politically correct for MR), Downs Syndrome, Autism, etc. The school is split into 5 classrooms, and we did a session with each class.

When we arrived at the school, some children were already waiting for us at the end of the driveway. When they saw us "whiteys," they jumped up and down and cheered. When we got out of the taxi and started unloading our stuff, kids came running over, hugging us and one girl (I'll try to put up a picture of us together - she was especially sweet) actually jumped on and hugged our supervisor, Tracy, who she might remember from another trip.

The School of Hope has testing this week, so rather than doing sessions on the covered porch, we set up in the shade at the end of the driveway. We got there as soon as they were beginning morning announcements/prayers, which was really interesting. Children could pick songs that they wanted to sing, and nearly all of them did the signs along with their singing. They finished the announcements with a prayer and started the school day.

We set ourselves up at the end of the driveway, and as the school was ready, they would send a classroom out to us. Each class session had basically the same format - we would begin with a hello song that asked them to clap their hands and stomp their feet. Even the deaf students could do this. Next, we would do a movement experience, giving them the opportunity to choose movements to make. Some of these included run in place, touch your toes, and pat your nose, which resulted in many of the youngest students picking their nose! (It was pretty hilarious) We brought three sets of resonator bells with us, too. Each set consists of a scale from C - C, and each pitch has its own color. The cylindrical plastic tubes with the metal resonator screwed to one side were easy for the children to hold, or even put on their laps. These were new instruments for the children, and they really enjoyed them, especially the deaf classroom. The excited look on their face when they realized that they could hear the vibrations of the bell was so rewarding. They would even hold the bells up to their ears as they played to hear more.

After doing a few bell experiences, we would bring out drums. Perhaps the most touching moment of the day was when the oldest deaf classroom took turns conducting the group of drummers. They would point to each person they wanted to play, and even raised and lowered their hands for loud and soft. One student went up and actually pretended to conduct like you would see at a concert - waving his arms with a smug and satisfied smile on his face.

After ending with a goodbye song, the kids would sometimes stick around for pictures, jumping all over us and flashing peace signs to the camera. I had never worked with deaf children before, and they were definitely my favorite class to work with. I learned a few signs to use in the session, but I can't wait to get back and sign up for a class at OU. We are going back to the school on Thursday, and I can't wait.

We got back from the school around 2:45, and I headed right for the sea, as did many others. The music ed students were back too, and some of us took turns jumping off the cliff and taking pictures of each other. Mine looks pretty lame, I will admit. Doing the stick man never looks cool, even if you are jumping off a cliff. On the way back from the school, we had stopped by the Rastafarian restaurant to put our orders in, which we have to do in order for our food to be ready that night. A few of us headed over there around 6. The food was great - all fresh veggies, since Rastas are vegetarians. He served us beans and rice and cooked cabbage, onions, peppers, carrots, and tomatoes. To drink, he served whole coconuts with a straw to drink the water. He gave us two bunches of bananas to eat. He brought out limes for our mosquito bites. To finish, we had mango slices. Each person's dinner cost just a little over $4. It was by far my favorite dining experience of the trip so far.

That night at drumming, the drum maker Fender brought the drum that I had ordered earlier in the week. I'll attach a small picture if I can, but unfortunately you can't see much of the drum. I got a kette drum, which is a traditional Rastafarian drum. He handmade it from goat skin (all I can think when I hit it is "behhh, behhh"), and it actually has a spotted pattern from the goat. I am learning all sorts of cool drumming patterns for it, and I can't wait to show everyone when I get back.

Heather and a girl from the deaf classroom during a drum experience


The children in the deaf classroom could feel the vibrations as Heather played guitar.

Beach Bumming

There are two groups on this trip - 12 music therapy students and 12 music education students. On Friday, the music therapy students went on the St. Mary's hike and the music education students went to a nearby beach. Yesterday we swapped.

In Jamaica, many of the beaches have been purchased by the government and sold to the U.S. or Spain to become resorts, or the government reopens them with a fee. An average fee would be $6 per person, which is actually half a day's wages, so it's really a tragedy when this happens. About a mile from Boston Bay, however, is Winnifred Beach, which is still public. Around noon, the music therapy majors walked over to Winnifred for some lunch and relaxation. Unlike Boston Beach, which is rocky so we have to wear shoes, Winnifred was sandy and the water crystal clear. We took snorkeling gear from Great Huts with us, which was a good decision. I went out to the reef with another girl named Aimee. We saw all sorts of fish including Tiger and Angel Fish. A Rasta was out there standing on a rock and Aimee started asking him some questions as to what kinds of fish we were seeing. He went back to shore to get his goggles and showed us a sting ray when he came back. We were going to go a little farther to see the sea turtles, but our group was getting ready to leave, so we headed back to shore.

Once back at Great Huts, a lot of us went down to Boston Beach for some cliff diving and surfing lessons. A lot of locals hang out at Boston Beach and are happy to teach American girls how to surf. One local, Antoni, said he would teach me, but it would take an hour, and we still had to get dinner before drumming at 7, so I said maybe another time.

Since we begin work today (Monday), we spent time going over our groups and session plans for our work. I am in a group with Alice, Kristen, and Heather for the entire week. Today, we will go to the School of Hope, which I'm really looking forward to. Tomorrow and Wednesday, we will go to the infirmary. Thursday we will be back at the school. Should be a fun day!

Teachings of a Rasta

To say that yesterday's hike was a success would be an understatement. I will admit, I was a little apprehensive at first as to whether or not things would go well. Eric warned us the night before not to go if we thought it would be too hard on us, because that would mean we would lose a guide if someone turned back. I'll give you a spoiler now and say that all who went made it with no problems!

We left Great Huts at 8:30 for a 90 minute taxi ride out of Portland Parish and into St. Mary's Parish, which is just west of Portland (Think of the Parishes like states - there are 14 total). Finally, we arrived at what used to be a 16th Century Spanish fort. It is now a guest house, and Eric said some of the trips stay there rather than Great Huts. We picked up our sandwiches and met up with our guides: Lion, Dale, and Cassan. Everyone hit the bathroom, lathered on the SPF, slapped on the Deet bug spray, and we were ready to go at 11 am.

Eric told us we would encounter all sorts of terrain, and he was right. Throughout the two and a half hour hike out, we were walking through what could've been Beaver Creek, then all of a sudden we were walking on a black sand beach, next we were in the heart of the jungle, which brought us to a dry creek bed where we hopped from rock to rock. At times we climbed up long, steep hills, and other times we walked flat for a while.

I stuck pretty close to Lion, who was leading the group. Lion is a tough name to live up to, and I pity the poor kid who just isn't good a dodgeball, but, unfortunately, his parents already named him Lion. This Lion, however, lived up to the name and then some. Lion is a Rasta, meaning he practices the Rastafarianism (you can read more about it on the link). He had his long dreads all wrapped up in a towel, similar to what my mom looks like when she just gets out of the shower. Shirtless, he wore a pair of swimming trunk and carried only a machete. His two dogs Loni and Lassie came with us. Oh, and did I mention that he did the entire hike barefoot?

Lion is also a bush doctor, meaning he knew the medicinal purposes for nearly every bush we passed, and about every 5 minutes he'd yank down a leaf of this or that and have us smell it. Some examples include a bush to clear out your sinuses (think garlic and vinegar in plant form), memory busy, aloe, a tree that leaked milky stuff when he hacked it with the machete (he told us that they take the milk and boil it to make glue), a tree whose flesh made a natural bandaid of sorts (very sticky and malleable), iodine, and lots of other things. He also pointed out many different fruits such as the ackee, jack fruit, guinep, bread fruit and papaya.

About 2/3 of the way out, we stopped at the black sand beach for a swim and/or lunch. We stayed there for a while and then walked the last 45 minutes to our destination - a waterfall. The last leg was intense, jumping from rock to rock, wading across parts of the river, and walking sideways up and down steep, loose slopes. Finally, we made it. The waterfall was a little slower than ususal, but the pool at the bottom was deep and cool, which felt wonderful after over 2 hours of hiking in the heat. Wearing bathing suits under our clothes, we all stripped and jumped in. The guides cut down bamboo poles for us to float on, which worked 10 times better than the "noodles" on which I struggled not to sink as I kid.

While we swam, the guides made a fire to keep the bugs away and cut up a jack fruit and pineapple. Lion also had some fish that he had caught and cooked that morning that he shared. Most Rastas are vegetarian, but some eat fish, so when I told him I was vegetarian, he seemed very happy saying, "Ah, you vegetarian lady, das good for you. Ya, good for you" (at least that's what it sounded like - he was very hard to understand, as are most Jamaicans). He also offered me some banana bread he had made, which had chocolate chips in it, and when I expressed my excitement, he said, "Yes I know you like chocolate, girl. Not a lady no like chocolate. No lady I meet don't like chocolate."

Finally, we had to head back, which went a lot faster than the way out. Throughout the whole trip, there were two ATV bikes that were going the same way, and we would see them every where we stopped. On one bike was a Jamaican guide, and on the other, a European couple. Lindsay asked Lion what his favorite place in Jamaica was and he said either St. Mary's or Portland parish because there was little pollution. He also told us how much he hated the quad bikes because they were disturbing his natural environment, polluting the air and ground. He loves the jungle because he can get everything he needs for free from the plants. Bringing quads into the jungle makes things less peaceful, less natural, and I can't say I blame him. At one point, we were heading back from the waterfall in a single file line and heard the quads behind us, having left the falls after we did. We could hear them right behind us for a few minutes, but, following Lion's lead, we did not get over and kept walking. Finally, they were right behind us, and someone asked Lion if we should get over for them. After a few minutes, he finally got over, and I could see him grumbling under his breath. I thought it must be really frustrating for him to see his peaceful land becoming more and more "civilized" (that would be a bit of sarcasm).

We made our way back to taxis with no problems, and soon were on our way back to Great Huts. We arrived just in time for dinner, which was served while a dance group entertained us. A group of about 13 dancers showed us traditional Jamaican dances and even invited us up to dance with them. After a long day of hiking coupled with the dancing, I was exhausted and went to bed as soon as I could.

Today we are going to a beach about a mile away at noon. We'll stay there most of the afternoon, coming back for dinner, drumming, and music therapy meetings. We will begin our work tomorrow, which I'm looking forward to.

I'll try to attach some photos, but might not be able to. I had to ask Adam to put the one up from the other day, because it would not load. Understandably, the internet is a little slow!

Here I am with Lion. Notice the "soap bush" in his hand that turned sudsy with water

A 16th Century Spanish lock near the waterfall