I will post more soon - internet access has been sporadic. I made it out Saturday afternoon just before Dean hit. Cross your fingers for my fellow traveler, who was supposed to leave today. Cross your fingers for Jamaica that the damage was not too bad.
The airport in Kingston was filled with tourists and rich Jamaicans fleeing the island - it wasn't frantic yet, but it was urgent. I got a final taste of Jamaican food - albeit fast food- from Island Grill in the airport. Mmmmm callaloo rice and fish tea. still more spices than you get in US fast food. and I just discovered (at Brunch at the Alhambra when we went last sunday) that Hominy corn porridge is yummy in that "I'm eating pap" or babyfood kind of way, so I had that as dessert (it's sweet and vanilla-ish tasting).
The plane flight was full as could be and there were many loud white american teens exclaiming over how glad they were to leave early. One insisted on moving an elegant, elderly black man (in a fedora) from the window seat he had mistakenly taken and shouted across him to her friends for the rest of the flight about how glad she was to get away. I think ther were several school groups on the flight. I put my headphones on and read The Iron Council. Back in the US now, although I will continue to upload accounts from my trip over the next few days.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
some pics to cheer you up
no I'm not back in NYC or anything. we went to a ROCK NIGHT last night.before that were many adventures, pouring rain, and a visit to the immensely creepy and sad house that Dennis Brown was born in.
other than that, due to the rain and the heat and all my shoes being filled with rain at one point over the weekend I have trench foot basically. Makes walking around on my last week a bit less fun than usual. But at least I have something to scare off cat-callers with.
Made our final trip into the prison system today. Fort Augusta, the women's prison. It was a more relaxed trip than the last one, where I gave an abbreviated version of my copyright workshop. This time we talked about future plans for SET in the prisons, and different inmates told a bit of their stories of how they came up there. What is increasingly evident is first the lack of choice facing people in poverty, but also, the fact that 75% of the women there were there because of men, in one way or another. People fighting back against abuse, or acting out because they had been abused, were the most common stories. We left energized but also enraged all over again at how little the women have to work with to improve their situations, whether inside or outside.
Gotta run for now, but this site will be updated soon with accounts of
- The walking tour of Orange Street, historic record label/studio lane
- Some accounts of tasty food eaten while here
- more fashion talk (uptown vs. downtown and men vs. women mostly)
- another trip to Rae Town, this time with my partner as well as my roommate.
- Wedi Wednesdays at Stone Love
- A full account of ROCK NIGHT
Friday, August 3, 2007
Evening at Half Way Tree
(from last week, when my roommate and I walked down to Half Way Tree to look for clothing to go out dancing in - I've been feeling severely underdressed these days)
The sun is setting by 7 but even as it grew dark people were everywhere when we approached Half Way Tree (site of the only walk/don't walk sign I've seen in Kingston so far). Most shops were closed except for hair salons (somewhat segregated by gender, I think), where I could see people getting gussied up for later tonight.
As we walked down Half Way Tree road towards the clock tower, the sidewalk on one side was lined with vendors although they seemed to be multiplying as the night goes on – some were only beginning to set out their stuff at 8pm, unrolling big plastic tarps or laying out garbage bags flat and layering clothing -mostly women's clothing – brightly colored tops especially, and occasionally piles or bunches of underwear. Coming up on the main corner, we passed a woman sitting on a stool or something I couldn't see, with a huge bag of 3-stacked boxer shorts in front of her. All the clothes for sale (and stacks of washcloths –very useful for wiping sweat off in the clubs) looked pretty new and clean.
There were also a few drum chicken vendors, across the street from the clothing vendors, although I don't hear the whistle of the nut roasting machines. On both sides of the street a few folks had set up small tables with drinks and candy, and there is a guy with a fruitstand, rows of mangoes and a small pile of breadfruit visible in the dark. As we walked into Clock Tower Plaza, most of the shops were closed but a van parked in the middle of the parking lot had an entire fruit and vegetable market crammed inside of it – I could see piles of onions, plantain, tomatoes, other foods.. a scale hangs from the back of the van. At the back of the parking lot a rasta guy in his 30s stands by a table piled high with sugar cane.
All the women's clothing and shoe shops were still open when we arrived at around 7:30, and we begin our exploration by wedging ourselves into a series of tiny places with as much clothing as possible stuffed into racks and women pushing through and around them and each other.
The first three stores we visited were in the half way tree mall (a c-shaped structure around a parking lot – two levels small shops ranged around the center). These were buzzing with activity, mostly women in their 20s I think, with women the same age or slightly older working behind the counter. IN all the small places, it's only women's clothing, hanging on long lines across the window or hanging from the metal grates over the windows, and hanging from the ceiling.
There is hardly room to turn around, although most places have a fitting room (everyone I go into is piled with shoe boxes and a mirror leaning in the back). Lots of stuff was cute – mostly looked like stuff I would see at home in the cheap stores like Tellos, the step below H&M – mostly synthetic fabrics, microfiber and thin cotton, or some of the club-clothing stores where everything is microfiber, draped and pinned with shiny hardware. But it's not really so cheap here. I see a really cute sundress but it's 3800 jamaican dollars – about 45 bucks. Everything is made in china, and the sizes are demoralizing. I'm an 8-10 in the US and when they have larges (which is rare) I don't fit into most of them. Even when I do, many of the cheap fabrics are too see-through or stretch unflatteringly. O well.. We walked past at piles of denim jeans, bedecked with sequins and crystals and embroidery. Many women wear tight jeans all day here – I can't imagine it myself, in the heat.
The shops farther back from the street, or not in that mall are quieter, and staff more likely to be male. Most of them are larger shops, and have a men's section on one side and women's clothing on the other. Several of the men running some of the larger and quieter shops appear to be middle eastern, although one or two other shops are staffed by black Jamaican men.
All of the shops play music, mostly dancehall and R&B. I can't tell if it's a radio or a player of some kind – I don't see the source and I can't remember any djs talking.
Outside, in the cool of the evening the scene is pretty jovial. People are clearly preparing for evenings on the town, gathering in groups on streetcorners. There are mostly groups of women or groups of men, segregated by age and gender. We walk back up the street, to get to the supermarket before it closes. As we leave the supermarket, we walk towards a fruitstand where Christina gets a coconut to drink from. Just past it there is another vendor with a drum of chicken, a table piled with snacks and a TV plugged in (somewhere?) with the news on. People sit or lean nearby, catching up on local news.
The sun is setting by 7 but even as it grew dark people were everywhere when we approached Half Way Tree (site of the only walk/don't walk sign I've seen in Kingston so far). Most shops were closed except for hair salons (somewhat segregated by gender, I think), where I could see people getting gussied up for later tonight.
As we walked down Half Way Tree road towards the clock tower, the sidewalk on one side was lined with vendors although they seemed to be multiplying as the night goes on – some were only beginning to set out their stuff at 8pm, unrolling big plastic tarps or laying out garbage bags flat and layering clothing -mostly women's clothing – brightly colored tops especially, and occasionally piles or bunches of underwear. Coming up on the main corner, we passed a woman sitting on a stool or something I couldn't see, with a huge bag of 3-stacked boxer shorts in front of her. All the clothes for sale (and stacks of washcloths –very useful for wiping sweat off in the clubs) looked pretty new and clean.
There were also a few drum chicken vendors, across the street from the clothing vendors, although I don't hear the whistle of the nut roasting machines. On both sides of the street a few folks had set up small tables with drinks and candy, and there is a guy with a fruitstand, rows of mangoes and a small pile of breadfruit visible in the dark. As we walked into Clock Tower Plaza, most of the shops were closed but a van parked in the middle of the parking lot had an entire fruit and vegetable market crammed inside of it – I could see piles of onions, plantain, tomatoes, other foods.. a scale hangs from the back of the van. At the back of the parking lot a rasta guy in his 30s stands by a table piled high with sugar cane.
All the women's clothing and shoe shops were still open when we arrived at around 7:30, and we begin our exploration by wedging ourselves into a series of tiny places with as much clothing as possible stuffed into racks and women pushing through and around them and each other.
The first three stores we visited were in the half way tree mall (a c-shaped structure around a parking lot – two levels small shops ranged around the center). These were buzzing with activity, mostly women in their 20s I think, with women the same age or slightly older working behind the counter. IN all the small places, it's only women's clothing, hanging on long lines across the window or hanging from the metal grates over the windows, and hanging from the ceiling.
There is hardly room to turn around, although most places have a fitting room (everyone I go into is piled with shoe boxes and a mirror leaning in the back). Lots of stuff was cute – mostly looked like stuff I would see at home in the cheap stores like Tellos, the step below H&M – mostly synthetic fabrics, microfiber and thin cotton, or some of the club-clothing stores where everything is microfiber, draped and pinned with shiny hardware. But it's not really so cheap here. I see a really cute sundress but it's 3800 jamaican dollars – about 45 bucks. Everything is made in china, and the sizes are demoralizing. I'm an 8-10 in the US and when they have larges (which is rare) I don't fit into most of them. Even when I do, many of the cheap fabrics are too see-through or stretch unflatteringly. O well.. We walked past at piles of denim jeans, bedecked with sequins and crystals and embroidery. Many women wear tight jeans all day here – I can't imagine it myself, in the heat.
The shops farther back from the street, or not in that mall are quieter, and staff more likely to be male. Most of them are larger shops, and have a men's section on one side and women's clothing on the other. Several of the men running some of the larger and quieter shops appear to be middle eastern, although one or two other shops are staffed by black Jamaican men.
All of the shops play music, mostly dancehall and R&B. I can't tell if it's a radio or a player of some kind – I don't see the source and I can't remember any djs talking.
Outside, in the cool of the evening the scene is pretty jovial. People are clearly preparing for evenings on the town, gathering in groups on streetcorners. There are mostly groups of women or groups of men, segregated by age and gender. We walk back up the street, to get to the supermarket before it closes. As we leave the supermarket, we walk towards a fruitstand where Christina gets a coconut to drink from. Just past it there is another vendor with a drum of chicken, a table piled with snacks and a TV plugged in (somewhere?) with the news on. People sit or lean nearby, catching up on local news.
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