Age no deterrent!

 Would you undertake a major construction project if you were lucky enough to live to your ninties?

I am 80 and would never dream of taking on the task of dealing with contractors and workmen as it would probably send me to an early grave!.

Not the Wallaces though!👍

Mrs. Nellie Wallace is a 95 year old retired educator and her husband Everald, a farmer.

Miss Nellie

They beleive that no challenge is too great or impossible nor is age as a deterent when the circumstances call for action. 

Mr. Everald 

Mrs Wallace is a graduate of Moneague Teachers College who spent more than 70 years in the teaching profession.

 Most of that time was teaching at Fyffes Pen Primary in Brompton, St. Elizabeth and later at Clapham Primary and Infant School in Brighton St. Elizabeth. (she did a few short stints at other schools over the years too).

When Hurricane Melissa struck, Teacher Wallace and Mr. Everald who should have been relaxing while enjoying their long years on earth, literally experienced hell on earth.

For the four bedroom home on the hills of Brighton where they had happily and quietly spent most of their lives, was totally destroyed within hours.

The remnants of their home.

Teacher Wallace told me the hurricane hit around 9am and the entire roof left in no time. So she and her husband spent the next 4 to 5 hours standing in a corner in one of the rooms. Her husband stood in front of her to try and shield her as much as he could, but they both got thoroughly soaked.

It was terrifying.

By the time it was all over (about 5pm) they realized they were homeless for the first time in their long lives. 

She said it was God who sent some men from the community, including former students, armed with machetes to see how they were.

As she has difficulty walking, the men put their hands together to make a chair so she could sit, then they carried her to a neighbor, friend and church sister, Mrs Judith Warren who graciously welcomed them.

That's where they have been living for the past 9 months.

But the Wallace's are proud, independent minded people and decided that they had to build a new home as they couldn't impose on a good neighbor forever.

While most of their family scoffed at the idea because of their age, as Mr. Wallace had level land in the flatter section of Brighton, they decided were going to build a new house, come hell or high water. 

And that's what they are doing with the assistance of Mr. Warren jr who is Mrs Wallace's godson. He is helping to supervise the project for them.

 The new home being built is smaller than the one they lost but it will be much sturdier.

Relatives and friends are now so sold on the project that they are also helping them as much as they can, to realize the dream of a new safe, sturdy home. 

You know what is the only tragedy in this story of good neighborliness, resilience, community, spirit, independence and courage?

The tardiness of the Jamaica Teachers Association (JTA) to assist. 

 You really only get a true impression of the usefulness of an organization by how it treats its professional associates.

Teacher Wallace paid dues and was a faithful member of that organization for almost seven decades.

After the hurricane, the JTA  announced that it had a fund to assist its members who had been affected by Melissa. So she filled in a pile of paperwork and applied.  A relative in Kingston has even followed up by telephone several times.

Would you beleive that nine months later, not even a cent has come from the JTA to assist this dedicated educator!

That is really shameful as the JTA is so strident when it wants something but  clearly falls short when it comes to helping educators who have done so much for the country. 

That is totally unacceptable.

On another note, Jamaica could easily win a prize for having the most potholes in the world. 
The road to Brighton demonstrates perfectly what happens when potholes are ignored far too long.  Inevitably they become monstrous gullies😡.

I weep for Black River/victims

 Although I have traveled extensively, there are few places in the world that have had as much of an impact on my early life as Black River in St. Elizabeth, Jamaica.

A section of the peaceful harbor in better times.

The bustling coastal town of Black River has been my parish's capital since 1773. It was then an important port of trade and export center. By the early 1900's it was second only to Kingston in terms of development.

 In fact, so rich and developed was that parish capital in the early years that it was the first place on the island to have a private home with electricity. 

Due to the proliferation of structures in Black River with Georgian and Victorian architecture, in 1999, the Jamaica National Heritage Trust designated the town a Protected National Heritage District.

The once majestic Waterloo house was the first private residence in Jamaica to get electricity.

Due to the destruction brought on the historic town on October 28 2025 by hurricane Melissa, that Black River, the really historic town no longer exists neither can it be reconstructed.

My fond memories of the town don't date back to the very early days though.😊.

I grew up in the rural, backward district of Malvern which is some 18 miles from Black River. In those olden days, the now booming town of Santa Cruz was mostly undeveloped farm lands.

 I was therefore never exposed to any development possibilities, unless I went to Black River, for the nation's capital, Kingston, was 100 miles away via mostly unpaved, winding and mountainous roads, so we never went there very often.

 In fact I don't remember going to Kingston for the first 12 or so years of my life!

So, the capital of St. Elizabeth, Black River was it for me.

The wide, peaceful, bountiful Black River is the longest navigable river in Jamaica.

There they had a hospital, elegant architecturally designed homes and government buildings, professional dental service, numerous shops selling everything, restaurants and guest houses etc. 

I even remember it had a popular Mineral Bath.

That spa had warm sulphur baths where my parents would go to relax and soak, as it was said to have healing waters that treated ailments from rheumatism to intestinal problems.

For me however, it is the big blue sea and magnificent, peaceful, river that brings back the happiest memories. 

My father had been the Collector of taxes for the parish and was based in Black River. In those days, everyone in government offices worked on a Saturdays but that was the day I loved most while growing up.

 For that was when I was taken to Black River to learn how to swim and after, just enjoy the wonderful water.  

Every Saturday, I was put on a rambling bus in the care of the driver, and while the trip  felt like it took forever as the big bus lumbered slowly around corners, even having to reverse at times to traverse dangerous mountain curves,  once I reached the bountiful destination, it was heaven on earth.

Once there, some responsible person from my dad's office would escort me to the sea where they interacted with the fishermen, selecting, scaling and preparing fish for my him while I had the time of my life in the water, for probably hours.

 That's where my lifetime love of the water came from!💪

Unfortunately it's from that same sea that the destruction of Black River came, when Melissa the largest storm in the history of our lovely island, having  gale force winds up to 195 miles per hour, joined the raging Black River sea, and river, to flatten the town and erase much of its history and my childhood memories. 

The pictures and videos are devastating. 

The destruction appears complete and it's going to take decades for the current residents to ever recover and return to normalcy. 

You know I see and hear platitudes from comfortable people talking about how resilient we Jamaicans are and how we will soon rise.

Big deal. 

When the world and the rest of us move on, what happens to the already destitute?

 How will children who must suffer without even schools, as they watch their parents living in penury and suffer for the next few years to just put back the basics like even shelter from the elements, in their lives, cope mentally in the interim?

Jamaica has plenty of goodwill worldwide and help and aid has been flowing in but for how long?

 Hopefully the aid now being received will be channeled to those who really suffered and not end up further enriching politicians with sticky fingers, the powerful and greedy!😡

Yes, the town of Black River like other affected areas will one day be rebuilt.

However many lives will remain shattered, probably for decades. 

Black River will never be the same picturesque, historical place where I learnt so much and enjoyed some of the best years of my youth.

But life goes on and both the sea and huge river will continue to give sustenance and pleasure to all as everything evolves.

This excellent video by Allison records for posterity the Black River that was.

Great contribution to history Allison 👍👏. Thanks

https://youtu.be/_2XQ4kvV9GM?si=x1mOEgIe20LrjgLQ

https://youtu.be/hdpyDlcaiAQ?si=k9pVm2zjDK5YV17D

Negril revisited

As a child, I visited Negril in Westmoreland, Jamaica many times with my parents, brother and cousins, as it has the most beautiful white sand beaches and cool, clear, warm water and on the west end, people were having fun jumping off various rocks into the clear blue waters. 

You see, where we lived in the neighboring parish of St. Elizabeth, had nothing comparable.

At that time, Negril was a little sleepy fishing village.

9

Somehow in the 1960's, rich hippies from the nearby USA, heard about it and propelled by the thought of being able to freely enjoy some top quality ganja (marijuana) while lounging on the beach or jumping off 40 foot high cliffs into the clear water below, started to visit. 

The  Negril lighthouse

People from all over the world are still enjoying themselves, jumping off the high cliffs into the clear blue waters today.

Then they were accommodated in nothing but thatch huts, offered by extremely hospitable people.

  The existence of this new hot spot near the USA spread rapidly  and soon people from all over the world started to find their way to the exotic village. 

That was the genesis of tourism in this most prized section of Jamaica and today, almost all the land on the 7 mile section of the beach is lined with bars, hotels, restaurants while the cliff side is abuzz, offering everything including high end accommodation, non-stop music, partying and fun for people of all ages.

The late great Peter Tosh who also hailed from Westmoreland, strongly advocated for the legaling of marijuana and numerous paintings of him with his mantra " Legalize It" are prominent on the wall at Ricks Cafe.

I had not visited the cliff side for more than a decade and was really impressed with what it had become.

Ricks Cafe which established itself    

beside the jumping spot 50 years ago, has been expanding  exponentially too.

 That's the party center of the West end.

Boats bring visitors from the beaches to the cliff side to jump off the rocks.

They come from land and sea to party.

Negril is definitely now on top of its game and I loved the vibes.🥳

Feeling welcome

 I certainly felt welcome on landing at Colombo airport, Sri Lanka, for look who met us as we approached the arrival hall!

My hosts, Professor Damith and his wife Sharlene. Sharlene is a PhD student.

Then, as I was walking to immigration, I saw decorations all around, so figured some big celebration had recently taken place recently.

Passengers walking down the well decorated arrival passage to immigration.

I was right about a recent celebration for I subsequently learnt that had I arrived two days earlier, I would have witnessed the annual birthday celebrations of the birth of  Lord Buddha.

 Darn, wish I knew about it before booking my flight.😩 I would have given anything to have witnessed some of that annual ritual.

My hosts Damith and Sharlene have gone all out to accommodate me. For when I said I could take a cab to their home, Damith insisted on making arrangements for me to be picked up since he said I don't know the language.

 I had just assumed English was widely spoken here, (it was a former British colony known as Ceylon) as it is taught in the schools. It clearly isn't though, for not even the taxi man who took me to their home, did not spoke a word.

Sinhalese is the lingua franca here.  (93% speak Sinhalese, 15% Tamil and around 70% speak English. The Sinhalese won the civil war against the Tamil 1983-2009 hence the dominance of their language I guess.)

First Lesson to myself therefore is Assume nothing😊.

I know I am going to have a wonderful  time here though for the vibes are good.

 It's so green and lush too but the rains just started coming after a prolonged drought, I hear. 

 (Of course as you probably know Sri Lanka is an island around six times as large as Jamaica and with a population of over 22 million.)

The drive from the airport to the town of Homagama, took over an hour and that was on a toll road.

My first impressions are: how clean the place is and how careful the drivers are as the roads (outside of the highway,) are extremely narrow but well maintained , for I am yet to see a pot hole.

 

Haven't seen too many big cars either as clearly they import mostly small cars, bikes and tuk tuks aka three wheel, vehicles that fit within their environment and pocket.

Tuk tuk

(Living within your means is clearly an integral part of how your society develops, for despite the political upheaval in 2022 which led to the overthrow of the government and massive economic consequences, according to Georank.org, in 2024, Sri Lanka's GDP per capita (PPP adjusted) was higher than Jamaica's. Sri Lanka's PPP adjusted GDP per capita is estimated at $13,000, while Jamaica's is estimated at $9,400. Thanks Professor Damith😊.)

But back to my first impressions, my favorite vehicle is the tuk tuk, that's what you see in most of the smaller countries in Asia.

Driving to Mount Clifford Range where I will be staying, took me through a section of Homagama which reminded me of sections of Santa Cruz in my home parish of St. Elizabeth. But I didn't see one sidewalk vendor!

Will share my impressions between this island and my island home from time to time. 

Today it's all about getting over jet lag and getting rid of the germs that I picked up on the flight from Dubai to Colombo on the final leg of the long journey here, which has left me feeling slightly fluey.

More anon.

Ps. We are about 9 1/2  hours ahead of Jamaica time.

First memories in pics.

A Sarong.

The Sarong is  a traditional male outfit 

Damith in a sarong, posing beside a Wesak lantern. These were put up all over the island as part of the decoration to celebrate Lord Buddha' s birthday.

Hawaiian trek

We left the more populous Honolulu at nightfall, for the smaller Maui.

Maui depends solely on tourism and everyone buys into it.

The island is clean and well kept and the people are extremely nice and accommodating.

I can't say I agree with their version of white sand, though. It's not as white and powdery as I am accustomed to. It's more of the order of what we have in places like Treasure Beach and Great Bay in St. Elizabeth, in my homeland, Jamaica. 

It's beige sand, not white sand

And the water is colder, too.

Naturally, we had to take in a luau too. This is a feast put on to celebrate a special event. They put them on regularly for tourists, apart from their private ones. 

The luau includes food and entertainment. I really enjoyed the entertainment, but the food was not Hawaiian enough for me.

Hawaiian music tends to be soft and serene,

and generally tells a story.

 

Some music is used to bolster warriors and that is more robust. The 'warriors'  pretend to be heroic and daring, using weapons and fire to demonstrate their courage.

The males dance in grass skirts and do not appear to have anything underneath!😊

While the male dancers are robust and aggressive, I found the females seductive and gentle.

Nice place to hang out but not for too long.