I know all about Island Time. It's the same as Africa Time, South of the Border Time, When in Rome Time and Don't Worry, Be Happy Time. In theory, it is just great. That's my heart knowledge speaking. But, my head isn't as convinced. Things should just work, and they should work on a schedule. Isn't that the way the universe - and Jamaica - should roll? Well, they do work on a schedule and that schedule is Island Time.
So, when things are out of my control and there is nothing I can do about it, I'm reminded of Bobby McFerrin's lyrics and I'm not worrying. And, I'm in Jamaica, so what's not to be happy about? And, I will forever be reminded of another singer after this trip. More on that later.
As expected, and right on schedule I might add, I met with people from the U.S. Embassy, the two communities where I will paint murals and representatives from the Edna Manley College of Performing and Visual Arts. This was on my first complete day on the island. And, I spent the next day designing the mural with the input from the local community. It is shocking how long it takes to arrange kid-friendly little cartoons into a mural design. It's an all day and into the night event. But, I got the task finished.
Then, I waited by my phone for information about my taxi ride to the Standpipe community and beginning the work. I waited two days to get the scoop. I don't know who is funding the project. But, wherever the money is coming from, it isn't in the right place yet. And, the paint company has this unusual little policy about not giving out any paint if it isn't paid for. Imagine such a rule! So, without any paint, things are on hold and we're back to Island Time once again.
Emancipated slaves in Emancipation ParkI found myself waiting outside my hotel for my taxi to arrive. It was scheduled at 2:30 in the afternoon, but we all know about "you know what" kind of time. I decided to give the guy an hour. After all, I wasn't worried. Just before I almost gave up, the driver arrived. And, truth be told, I kind of wanted to give up on him. Across from my hotel in Emancipation Park, a choir was warming up for a concert. It sounded good and I kind of wanted to go exploring. Instead, I was on my way to the Edna Manley College of Performing and Visual Arts for a tour.
Kingston traffic isn't so bad in the non-rush hour moments. But, I've not seen the kind of roadways that a capital city requires for an ever-growing population with rush hour demands. Tropical rains compound the issue. And, if traffic is blocked for some kind of special event, it's the stuff of driving nightmares.
And, during my tour of Edna Manley, I learned a little about why the traffic in New Kingston was so messed up. It appears that the driver's needed another dose of McFerrin music in their system. They were not happy. But, instead of listening to any more of Bobby, Kingston was in the mood for Kanye. Yep, that's right. Kanye West was performing in a free concert across the street from my hotel. I cannot tell you one song the guy has sung. I would not recognize Kanye if he walked up next to me and shook my hand. I cannot imagine that I would ever go to one of his concerts back home - not even for free. But, I would walk across the street for the guy.
I knew that the concert would be crowded. So, I did a little homework in advanced and asked the clerk at the hotel desk, "Is there a balcony where you can slip me into so I can see the concert from a better view? I know you could lose your job, but wouldn't it be worth it for me?"
He smiled and said he'd think about it. But, even though there were lots of balconies on that side of the hotel, I got no invitation. No room in the inn. I guess there were no restaurants or cafes either. I had to cross the street and face the sweaty mob.
The first song the choir sang brought me back to Peace Corps Liberia. I didn't know the song had crossed the ocean, but the lyrics were identified as a Reggae song online. "Higher, Higher, Lift Jesus Higher. Lower, Lower, Stomp Satan Lower." I can still see my friends, Joyce and Joanna, singing that song along with the required body movements. So, the concert was off to a good start.
The choir, at least 120 strong, and audience were hopping, stomping, swaying, waving, jumping, praising and sweating. Well, I was sweating and all I did was stand around so I imagine they were too. I'm guessing most of the choir members were American, so they couldn't be used to the heat any more than me. There had to be sweat. They performed non-stop. It was loud and jubilant and oh so very active.
When the music changed to rap, I left. Spelled with or without the silent "c" in the beginning, it is not a genre I enjoy. It was time to join the chicken and cross the road. On the other side, I walked into my hotel to find the same desk clerk. Of course, he remembered me. Who else would joke with him and risk his job as the same time? He said, "There are people on the rooftop. It's okay to join them."
So, I did. And looking down on the crowd, I had a wonderful view. There was nothing to worry about, Bobby. I was happy to be in Jamaica.
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I didn't have a room with a view, but I was certainly at the right hotel.
aspce
