Recently I was thinking dat a li’l trip to de land of wood and water would be a nice break, chill out for a few days in Kingston, visit de brethren and sistren, eat some jerk pork from Chelsea Jerk Centre, hold some ackee and salt fish, then head north pun de new highway, tekking a break at Faith Pen, dis time eating jerk chicken and roast yam wash down wid bull ball soup, then head through Fern Gully.
Dese days I know yuh got to walk it – after de food at Faith Pen de walk would do wonders – touch down in Ochie, climb Dunn’s river falls and ultimately end at one of dem fancy resorts in Runaway Bay.
I would plan to do some white-water rafting, float down de river in an inflated tube, visit de Blue Mountains, feel de energy of de place, maybe run into Butch and ask he how he pull off such a sweet deal in Bubbadus, and come back home invigorated and fat from all de niceness.
Jamaica is a vast place, wid nuff nice people. Some of my closest family is Jamaican and Mista Michael is one of my idols; Joshua, the man, gone but not forgotten, tall, rugged and handsome wid a deep baritone voice. When he walk in a room it was electricity; women used to get weak in de knees and men too, ’cause dem did worried dat he pose an imminent and present danger.
One time in Jamtown I did wid a bunch of Caribbean media gorriliphants. Harold Hoyte did there too and me and de ladies went fuh a ride to de straw market. We use one of de street taxis, an old Austin Cambridge dat did build like a tank; six of we pile in and we had a tour of Kingston. Hear de driver: “Hup there you ’ave Eroes park, Mista Michael, he live hover yonder. Mista Heddie, he live hup there. Every other word had an H where there was none and de man putting H onto words dat don’t have in an H.
He was a real nice man and it was entertaining, although most of de folks could not understand a word he was saying. Pun de way back I tackle de brudder to tek we through Trench Town, let we see where brother Bob was from. De man get real animated: “Bass, no Jamaican taxi driver take you hup there; hup there dangerous, Sar.” Well, dat was de end of dat.
When de man calm down I ask he: “How come all Jamaicans does put H onto words without H and then take off de H from words wid H?” De driver slow down de car and say: “Bass, all Jamaican nah do dat, yuh know, is only de hignorant ones!”
Recently de Jamaican Gleaner newspaper put a blistering editorial pun Bubbadus ’bout threats to media freedom. De Hon Minister of everything Donville Inniss hit back and tell dem to deal wid de rot in Jamaica! Of course de Gleaner had de last word.
Dis war of words coming pun de back of de Shanique Myrie case which went against Bubbadus and more allegations by Jamaicans claiming wrongful imprisonment by Bubbadus.
Fuh now plans change. Vendor not gine to Jamaica anytime soon unless I travelling pun a Lucian passport. I gine to safer waters, de Helen of de Windies! Dis hignorant Bajan gine pass pun de jerk pork; I frighten to hear de term “cavity search” or de words “bend hover!”.
I, Market Vendor, gone fuh now. You have a blessed and a wonderful day, yuh hear?
