I will do the "community development".

I don't know about other PCV's, but I'm sure I had a stereotypical view of what Peace Corps service would look like before I applied.  After becoming a PCV, I realized that some of my expectations...weren't very realistic.  Here is a funny video that basically highlights the two extremes...



The funny thing about this video is that it was done by an RPCV (thats Returned PCV for those who aren't familiar with the many PC acronyms) who has since served in just about every position one can with the Peace Corps.

My favorite quote:  "You will sleep late and read novels that never interested you to pass the hours."  I can't even express how true that is.

Although my service is not really how I thought it would be, I am enjoying my time here in Jamaica and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna look back with fond memories and pride in what I accomplished.  Not to mention I still have over a year to turn this into my dream PC experience.  All I have to do is find a remote village, build a hut, start my own garden, and learn a tribal dance.  I think a safari was included in my original dream too, but oh well...

"Keep high aspirations, moderate expectations, and small needs."  - William Howard Stein

First Christmas in Jamaica

When I was about 12 years old, my family stopped celebrating Christmas, in addition to the rest of the holidays. The reason is because my mom became a Jehovah's Witness (google it if you want more details). So, for the past 12 years, Christmas has been a weird time for me, mostly because it was my favorite holiday when I was younger. The music, the decorations, the lights, waking up early to run to the living room to see all my presents, A Christmas Story marathon on TNT...such a happy time. After I went to college, I started "celebrating" again: going to Christmas parties or dinners, exchanging gifts, etc. But when I would come home for Christmas break, it was just like a normal day. No decorations. No exchanging of presents. No preparing for family to come over. Just another day of the year. To some people, that sounds sad (as said to me by some people). I actually got used to it pretty quickly though, once I stopped worrying about what people thought. Since I haven't truly celebrated Christmas in a long time, I wondered how my Christmas in Jamaica would be.

Here are a few differences that I noticed:

1.  People don't decorate nearly as much. Most people say that they can't afford the current (electricity).

2.  No snow. If it ever snows in Jamaica, I'm pretty sure people would think the world's coming to an end.

3.  Not as much emphasis on buying gifts. I mean, they do go shopping here, but it's not as crazy as in the U.S. I don't think you would hear about someone getting trampled at MegaMart by a crowd of people trying to get the last Tickle Me Elmo, you know? Although there is Market Day...

4.  There is an event called Market Day, held on Christmas Eve, in different cities across Jamaica. Market Day (at least the one I briefly experienced) is basically where vendors with all kinds of products are lining the streets, crowds of people are walking around looking and maybe buying, music is playing, and jerk chicken is being grilled everywhere. It lasts into the wee hours of the morning. I actually know people who didn't return home until about 7 the next morning. I, on the other hand, was home by 10 pm. It was interesting to see, but since I'm not a big fan of crowds, there wasn't anything spectacular about it for me. I heard, though, that the one in Mandeville isn't quite as exciting as the one in other places like Brown's Town in St. Ann or Kingston. So maybe next year I'll try a different one.

5.  A lot of families go to church on Christmas Day. Now this may actually be common in the U.S. too but most people I know stay at home.

Thats all I can think of right now. Let me tell you about my Christmas week. On Tuesday, a few other volunteers and I traveled to the eastern part of the island to hike the Blue Mountains.

 

It's a really beautiful area

I'm not really an outdoors type of girl. Never been hiking or camping or anything. But I wanna try new things, break stereotypes, prove that black people do hike and stuff. I don't know any black people that do, but I'm sure there are some. I actually have a list of things that I wanna try, but I'll save it for another post. So, in my attempt to try something new, I ended up getting sick early in the hike and chose to turn around and go back to Jah B's, the place we were staying. But you better believe I'm trying again. Before May 2012, I will make it to the top of that mountain.

So, while out in the wilderness, somehow I developed a swollen top lip. I ended up going to see our PCMO's (Peace Corps Medical Officers), and spending the night in Kingston since it was too late to go home. So glad I got to stay. I got to go to Pizza Hut and to a free charity concert in Emancipation Park featuring Tarrus Riley, Queen Ifrica, and a host of other reggae artists. I thoroughly enjoyed it, even with my swollen top lip (although it wasn't as swollen by then).

I returned home the next day (Thursday) and went shopping for ingredients to make my immensely popular and delicious cheesecake (for which I'm currently having withdrawals). On Friday, a PCV couple in Mandeville had me and a couple of other volunteers over for vegetarian enchiladas. Then we all ventured out for Market Day (see no.4 above). I later returned home to wrap presents.

Christmas Day finally rolled around and I woke up early so I could give out my gifts. The kids are usually the only ones to get presents so mom, dad, and sis were surprised when I gave them gifts. I got my brother EJ a batman wallet and I'm happy to see he's been carrying it around ever since.

After opening presents, we all went to go put flowers on Errol's (host dad) aunt's grave. She died last year in September and I think it's gonna be a tradition from now on to visit her grave every Christmas. I felt very honored to be included. They all reminisced about different times spent with her, things she used to do, how good her cooking was, etc. Apparently she even got to spend time with the PCV's that lived with my host family a couple of years ago.

Next we started preparing for dinner. I made my cheesecake and then helped with the other preparations. Whenever I get married and have a family, Christmas dinner will absolutely not be at our house...not unless it's a potluck. There is so much to do. And sooo much food to cook. Rice and peas, jerk chicken, ham, curry goat, salad, quiche, etc...not exactly the Southern cuisine I would have liked, but still very good. I was full as a tick. There were about 20 people total partaking, and there were still a lot of leftovers.

Sorry I don't have more pics of the food :)

After eating and cleaning up, everyone just sat around and chilled. The men went out on the veranda and played dominoes. Some people went to sleep. Overall, the day went well and I really enjoyed it. My first Christmas in Jamaica turned out to be a good one, thanks to my host family and PCV friends. Love you all!

Tash, EJ, and one their cousins in the middle

Host Family vs. Real Family

Every since I got to Jamaica almost 9 MONTHS AGO (still can't believe it), I've been comparing and contrasting my life here to my life in America.  From style to infrastructure to food to male/female relationships, multiple times per day, I find myself thinking: How would this situation look back home?

So, in response to pressure from JULIE ANN EMSLIE to write a new post in order to keep from being deleted from her blog list (love u Julie!), I will now examine the similarities and differences between my Jamaican family and my American family.

First up, Mommies!
Jamaican Jean vs. Alabama Sandra (I almost went with American Sandra, but I think Alabama works better. Don't you? K.)
Now, I think we all know that moms are the backbones of the family.  Without them, the household would basically fall apart.  These two women are no exceptions.  Jamaican Jean takes so much pride in her family and house.  Whether she's mopping, sweeping, and dusting daily, helping 5 year old EJ with his homework, changing 1 yr old Tash's diaper, or making mint tea for PCV Benita, she makes sure that everyone and everything in her surroundings are well taken care of.  The amount of laundry that woman does is amazing.  I'll admit that I used to wonder if housewives/stay-at-home moms ever really did anything during the day. Now I definitely have a new appreciation.  Alabama Sandra, on the other hand, works as a billing clerk at a mental health center by day and a wife and mother by night.  Because of this, Sandra's house might not be as spick and span as Jamaican Jean's, but I think it would meet most standards.  She is probably one of the sweetest and most forgiving people you will ever meet, and because of this, has probably put up with a lot more stuff than most people would.  But she keeps going, being a good employee and taking care of a family that doesn't always appreciate her as they should.  I would say Jamaican Jean and Alabama Sandra are much more alike than different.  They both are very dedicated to their families, although one is slightly more gossipy than the other. I won't say who...

Next, the fathers!
James vs. Errol
But who's the host dad and who's the real dad?  Thats for you to figure out.  I'll give some descriptions; you see whether you can guess who's who.  James works as a correctional officer and loves to watch sports.  Errol is retired and loves doing projects around the house; in fact, he recently finished a gazebo.  James can make the best cheese grits...ever.  Errol doesn't really cook much.  You can find Errol watching the Discovery Channel one minute and curled up in bed with his son watching cartoons the next.  James has been known to have Wheel of Fortune competitions with his kids and refuses to admit that his kids are smarter than him.  Errol drives a Mercedes.  James drives a Ford Explorer.  Some similarities:  both like to spoil their sons, both would rather spend hours trying to fix something before they would even begin to consider paying someone to fix it, and both can be very silly at times.  Who's who people? Seems pretty easy to me.  I'm gonna be really sad if I don't get any comments...

In the next post, I will be comparing the sistaz, the brothas, and the niece/nephew.  Stay tuned!

You think I'm pretty? Ok, well, thank you...

One day this week, as I was walking past a classroom, the teacher called me over.  After exchanging the usual pleasantries, she says, "You look good man, mi neva realize how beautiful you are."  This isn't the first time a teacher has commented on how I look. One teacher has simply stared at me for a few seconds and then said, "You know, you're very pretty." Another teacher calls me "pretty girl Benita" sometimes. Before you start rolling your eyes, this post isn't about how many compliments I get here...although I could go on :)

This post is about the fact that I don't know how to take these compliments. I say thank you and may compliment them if I see something to compliment. But inside I feel weird...slightly unworthy? Especially when I hear from kids that other kids have called me pretty. They call me nice too, but I'm used to being called nice. I am absolutely not used to being called pretty on a regular basis. Back at home, I may get complimented if I'm wearing a new outfit, or if I just got my hair done. But just on a regular day? When I have mud on the bottom of my pants and my shirt is slightly wrinkled? When my hair is pulled back in a ponytail and is looking quite nappy around the edges? I would never get complimented back at home if I was looking the way I was that day or any number of days.

Jamaicans are honest people, at least when it comes to commenting on how someone looks. If you're fat, you will get called fat...or fluffy or my favorite: champion...so empowering. If you're skinny, you'll get called just that, or slimaz or maga (sp?). So when they compliment me, especially the women, I know that they really do think I look pretty. I've had self-esteem issues related to the way I look all my life (and other issues too, but those deserve a post of their own), just like probably every other female. When Americans compliment you, it's not exactly clear if they really mean it or if they're just trying to be nice or polite. In other words, Americans can be sorta fake sometimes (can you sense my general distrust of people?). So when I got a compliment, I never really took it seriously and because of my insecurities, I automatically assumed that there was some other motive behind it. Nonetheless, I don't think I've ever gotten as many compliments as I have while being here in Jamaica. I realize I'm only basing this on my one experience, but I'm gonna throw out a couple of reasons why I think this is so.

First, obviously there is a different standard of politeness when it comes to commenting on someone's looks. The average American would absolutely not call a random person on the street fat to their face. They might say it once they walk away, but most likely never to their face. But even when it comes to giving good compliments, I think Americans tend to keep it to themselves more than Jamaicans. Maybe your experience has been different? For example, women, is it me or do we tend to develop jealous or envious feelings toward a woman who looks better than us and try to find every flaw that we can to make ourselves feel better? (I'm saying "us" for the sake of discussion, but I actually never do that...) Why can't we give credit where it's due? It's like by complimenting someone else, we're decreasing our own value. Or maybe we think our compliment will greatly inflate that person's ego. But let's say that we did compliment each other more, not just friends, but people we don't even know...we may get some crazy looks, but imagine how many people might actually appreciate it. Maybe they'd felt or been hearing their whole life that they weren't attractive enough based on some unrealistic standard...which leads to my next reason...

There is a different standard of beauty between Jamaicans and Americans. Furthermore, I think there's a slight difference between the beauty standards of Black Americans and the rest of Americans. Let's take this comment that I've gotten from a teenager on the street: "Fatty, yuh body nice." In the US, that would be a contradictory statement! You can't have "fat" and "nice" in the same sentence, at least when you're referring to a person. Here in Jamaica, being thick is a good thing. In America, fat is not acceptable. Being anorexicly skinny is unacceptable too, but there definitely is a promotion of an acceptable skinny standard, that a lot females don't match. Now for Black Americans, I would say being fat is generally not viewed as attractive, although I think there are more exceptions than among the rest of Americans. But having a little thickness is definitely a plus. Mostly because it has to be, since a lot of us are naturally thick. Yes, I know a lot of us have some bad eating habits that may lead to our fluffiness, but when you seen a basically skinny girl with a big ole booty and thick thighs, thats not food, thats just nature. So when you have a girl thats thick by nature basing their beauty on a standard that they were never meant to achieve, you can imagine that there will be some issues there.

Another big discussion is skin complexion. It seems like no one is satisfied with their natural color. Some white people wanna be tan. Some black people wanna be lighter. Here in Jamaica, some people even bleach their skin. Yeah, its that serious. But there's a disagreement over whether they simply view lighter as more attractive or whether they want to be lighter in order to have more opportunities. The first option can be just a matter of preference...there's no underlying issue there. The second option presumes that there is still a system in place that sees lighter as being better: more intelligent, more attractive, more sophisticated, just all around a step above the dark ones...this issue deserves a post of its own. In Black America, I don't know of anyone ever bleaching their skin (except Michael Jackson of course, but he had issues), but there are definitely light skin vs. dark skin remnants left over from slavery and civil rights. I remember my mom telling me about how my great-grandma (who was mixed with a little Native American, or American Indian, whichever one is politically correct) would make mean comments about how dark my mom was when she was little. And that was somewhat understandable in that time, based on what was happening. I wasn't there of course, but from what I've been told, lighter black people got off a little easier than darker black people. And if you were light enough to pass for white, you definitely had it better. I'm assuming things were similar in Jamaica. So how does this relate to a standard of beauty? Is it simply that the desire to be lighter for wealth, privilege, and equality has morphed into a general desire to be lighter for beauty, with wealth, advantages, and respect lurking beneath the cover as natural consequences of being light-skinned. Does that even make sense?! Work with me people, I'm attempting to be deep here.

Let's talk about hair. Let's talk about the fact that a large number of Jamaican women is walking around with somebody or something else's hair on their head. Same for Black American women. Now is this simply a matter of hairstyle preference? Or is there a deeper issue that again stems from the past? Some would argue that by putting in fake extensions or perming aka relaxing aka creaming our hair, we're trying to achieve some standard of whiteness that doesn't naturally grow out of our heads. Some say that we're simply trying to blend in better with White America, for advancement's sake (I love this line from Chris Rock's "Good Hair": "If our hair is relaxed......white people are relaxed." Lol. I've actually heard of people not getting hired because of certain natural hairstyles, like afros or locks, so there may be some truth to that. Personally, I relax my hair because it makes it easier to comb through and I like the way it looks. I may try locks later seeing that I'm in the perfect place to get some. But do I have some deep-seated desire to be like-white? I don't think so. Then again, if it's deep-seated, I probably won't be very aware of it. I really don't think so though. As far as hair goes, I say do what you want. But don't be disillusioned and think that a certain hairstyle is gonna take you farther than your natural talents, abilities, and hard work. Your overall looks may take you farther (I'm sure I don't need to support this statement). But not just your hairstyle.

So let's review. First, Jamaicans think I'm pretty. Second, I'm considered pretty here in Jamaica. Third, pretty is a compliment commonly used to describe me here in Jamaica. Fourth, nothing else matters.

For real though, I had no idea where I was going with this post. My confidence has definitely been boosted since being here. I'm slowly learning how to take compliments. I do think that the standards of beauty worldwide would be an interesting discussion. I also believe that it's interesting to discuss what black people worldwide think of our race, not just when it comes to looks, but many other areas as well. You'd be surprised to find out the many different issues we all have in common. I hope to write a future post about that.

I'm Baaack...

I realize I haven't blogged in quite a while. I guess I just lost interest in it. Or the excitement of being a new PCV wore off. Me nuh know. Anyways, I was checking my blogger dashboard and I noticed they now have a tab named "Stats" where I can basically view the traffic on the blog. It's sorta detailed too; I can see the country, operating system, and browser of the people viewing my page and also how many times per day people viewed my page. Someone from the Netherlands viewed my page just a few minutes ago! Thats so cool. Soo, I'm realizing that people (not a lot, but a few) are reading my blog and might possibly want me to update it. I've been selfish. I apologize. I forgot how much I relied on other PCV's blogs to get me through my long journey to service. Some of you reading this now may be joining me in March right here in sunny Jamaica. And what kind of PCV would I be if I didn't shed some light on what you may be experiencing in the near future? I'll try to do better, I promise :)

Since the last time I wrote, so many new exciting things have happened! Not really, but I'll try to make them sound exciting to keep you interested. First, I've moved to a new place. A really really nice place. So nice that I don't wanna show pictures because you may actually get jealous. I also don't want any nominees to get the wrong idea about what they're living situation may be like because my place is absolutely not typical. I feel very lucky and very blessed. And although it's completely opposite of what I thought I'd be living in when I first applied to PC, I couldn't be happier with the place I have. I was so naive. Me, living in a hut? Yeah right.  So the reason I moved is because someone broke into my last place while I was sound asleep in my bed, at 6 am on a Saturday morning. Climbed in through an unbarred living room window. Scared the crap outta me. Luckily he didn't see me, but instead heard me get up, got scared, and left out of a back door. I then proceeded to nervously shuffle to the neighbor's and call the police. Their "investigation" was...interesting to say the least. Put their fingers on everything, I mean, have they not seen an episode of Law and Order, CSI, or any of the other million crime shows on tv? The assailant has not been found, nor will he probably ever be found. Unless of course he returns to the scene of the crime, which we know all stupid criminals do. We shall see.

School has started again. Officially, I'm working with 18 grade 4 students. Unofficially, I work with any number of kids who may wander up to the computer lab. I assessed about 30 grade 4 students who the teachers said needed help with reading and then the took the ones who needed the most help. I tried my best divide them into groups according to their levels, but it's so mixed. And honestly, each of them need one-on-one help. But I can't just work with one student at a time. Oh no, I'm a PCV. I need to help as many people as I can in order to feel accomplished. I need to show my Jamaican coworkers that I'm actually doing stuff here. I'm changing their country for the better. And they should be extremely grateful to me, right? In actuality, future PCV's, you'll probably need to have an attitude readjustment once you begin your service. You most likely will not have a huge successful project that touched the lives of hundreds of people, like we all dreamed of. It's definitely possible and you should aspire for that if the opportunity arises, but don't come in expecting that to happen. You may not have people appreciate or acknowledge what you do. You may have people saying you're not doing enough. Or people who just want you to get money for them. It's crazy how we have all these aspirations about what our service will be like, how happy the nationals will be to have us and work with us and make positive strides for their community. And then you get here and it's like...huh...this is not at all how I thought it would be. Even though I tried not to have expectations, it's hard not to. We all have that stereotypical image of what a PCV's experience is like stuck in our heads. It's very true that every volunteer's experience is different. At times, you have the power to make or break your service with how you choose to spend your time, who you choose to talk to, how flexible you choose to be, and most of all, how positive you choose to stay. Other times, though, things will happen that are completely out of your control. Those times suck. But hopefully it's something you can move on from. You wanted to grow, right?

Ok, back to my school. So I am assigned to a shift school, which means that Grades 1 to 6 meet in the morning from 7 to 12:15 and Grades 7 to 9 meet in the afternoon from 12:30 to 5:15. Do I like the shift school thing? No. Take out about an hour for lunch, a 30 min devotion, and other random class disruptions for each shift and you get about 4 good hours for the primary students and around 3 good hours for junior high. In my opinion, not enough. But as a volunteer, you soon realize that there are some things you just have to learn to work around. Besides literacy tutoring, I've also been trying to help teachers with different computer skills. Some want to start with the basics. Others wanna learn how to use certain programs like PowerPoint. I originally set up a schedule for computer workshops, but unfortunately no one showed up for the first two...after they basically asked me to set it up. And said they would come. But I've been able to work with a few individually, which in the long run is better I think. I installed the Mavis Beacon typing program on one teacher's laptop and she was so excited to learn how to type. Every now and then, she tells me what new letters she knows. I found a router in the computer lab and set up a wireless network. And apparently a couple of the teachers who bring their laptops to school have been using the internet to show videos related to the lessons, which I was really happy about.

Time is absolutely flying by and thats not something I expected to happen. On Monday, I will have been in Jamaica for 7 whole months. That is crazy. And it doesn't feel like that long. The longest I've been away from home is about a week, so I'm extremely proud of myself for not feeling as homesick as I should. I do really miss home though. My family. Mommy's cooking. My favorite restaurants. My favorite desserts. There are times when I actually sit and daydream about food. I've lost at least 20 pounds, so maybe it's a good thing I got away from my fatty southern cooking. Can't wait to get back to it though. Oh yeah, I've also missed what seems like about 100 weddings or engagements so far. Seems like love decided to infiltrate the Alabama air right after I left.

Speaking of weddings, my Jamaican coworkers are on a mission to find me a husband so I won't leave. Someone even gave out my number to some guy named Shemar, who called me and actually tried to have a normal conversation, asking how my day was and where I lived. Uh, I don't know you. Can you not sense the irritation and slight anger in my voice? At least he didn't tell me he loved me like a lot of other Jamaican men do within seconds of meeting you. I'm starting to think that men here don't have a good grip on reality.  Correction:  The phone call was from another PCV. Don't you just love prank calls? I don't. Anyways, my comment about Jamaican men not having a good grip on reality...still stands; I think I still have ample evidence to support that.

Lawd a mercy! These kids will drive you crazy...

You know what kids like to take advantage of? Disorganization. If things aren't planned for them to do every second of the school day, then they become psycho. They literally lose their freakin minds and cause you to do the same.

One such event occurred just this morning. About an hour ago. I had to write this now while it was still fresh in my mind. Ok, so this morning I arrived at school and went to the office to sign in, you know, like a perfectly normal day. After I signed in and signed for the computer lab keys, the principal and assistant principal informed me of something to the extent of someone coming to the computer lab, with a class, so I won't be tutoring today, but I don't have to leave, I can just stay in the lab with them. I barely understood what they said, but that's the gist of it. So I was thinking "Sweet! Free time today." Silly me.

I went to the lab, like I normally do, pulled out my laptop and started to check my email. Not too long afterward, I hear a loud rumbling noise. The sound of rambunctious muddy feet running up the stairs to the computer lab, anxious to enter my domain. All of a sudden, the doors swing open and a stampede of little monsters, I mean children, rushed into the lab, grabbing chairs, touching computers, turning on computers, turning off computers, and in the process, irritating the hell outta me. But the teacher must be behind them, right? Or at least the mystery person who's gonna be in the lab, right? Silly me again. Nope. Just the kids.

Miss? Miss? Miss? Miss? Miss? Can you turn on the computer Miss? Can I play games Miss? Does this computer work Miss? (Oh yeah, every student here in Jamaica, past and present, call the female teachers Miss. Sometimes they say the last name. But mostly it's just Miss.) So this is what I heard for what seemed like forever, in combination with the moving metal chairs. It was so awesome. Then guess what happened: another class came in. Great! Just reread the first lines of this paragraph and you'll see what happened for the next few minutes. But double it!

So I tried to calm everyone down. I yelled for everyone to sit down and be quiet, and everyone who knows me knows I don't yell. It's not like I thought it would work; I don't have a deep forceful voice, and I have this Southern American accent which everyone seems to think is so hilarious. But it worked. Temporarily. At first I told them not to touch the computers. "No, you can't play games, you're not here for that. I don't know why you're here, I'm not teaching you today." Then, as minutes rolled on, and my patience wore thin, I gave up and told them to turn on the computers. I figured playing a game would keep them quiet.

After about two minutes, this lady walks in and tells everyone to turn off the computer. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to figure out who the heck she is during all this chaos. She tells us that she's here to review for the Grade 4 Literacy Test, specifically with comprehension. Of course the kids aren't paying a bit of attention to her, so she uses my wonderful method of yelling. Not surprisingly, it worked. The kids were finally quiet.

So she passes out a few practice exams. Of course, some kids had to share...not enough for everybody. Then, she asks one of the boys to come up and read the first question. "Mi cyaan read Miss." "You can't read? Go tell teacher to write your name on a piece of paper." I'm teacher. So she proceeds to go through every single kid present. An overwhelming majority of them couldn't read the first question. She then sent for her 1st grade niece to come. She read perfectly. So then she goes into this whole lecture about how if they can't read this simple sentence, then there's no way they can pass this test. I totally agree. Then why are you here? Oh yeah, she even told them that she didn't want them to end up like Dudus, the now-captured fugitive that caused all the uproar a few weeks ago. But she also told them that Dudus was really smart when he was in school, one of the best in his class. How this helped the situation, I have no idea.

So by now, it's break/lunch time so I made every single one of them get out. I asked the lady if she was coming back after lunch and she said that she didn't see the point since they can't even read. So she left. After break, each of kids came back to see if they could come in. I politely said nope, the lady left, so you have to go back to class. The lab returned to its original quiet state. Mi happy now, although I just found out that the lady will be back tomorrow. Still don't know who she is, so for now she's just "the lady".

Fun times.

Misrepresented

On multiple occasions during our pre-service training, we were informed, or rather warned about the attention and harassment we might receive simply because of our status as foreigners and the misconceptions and stereotypes that influence the way foreigners are viewed. For example, Americans are assumed to be rich, or at least wealthier than people here, so as a result of that assumption, Americans are begged for money and often end of paying more than the normal asking price for goods and services. We, especially the females, were warned about sexual harassment, being called different "creative" names, inappropriate touching, etc. The sessions covering these topics were absolutely necessary, even if it was just to make us aware of what might happen and prepare us for how to deal with these situations.

That being said, toward the end of training, I realized I was starting to develop a somewhat subconscious "harassment shield" ready to fend off any rude remarks or pick up lines that may come my way. And at first, I didn't even realize it, how every time I would pass a group of men, I would automatically expect something to be said. Or how I expected most of the Jamaican men that I came in contact with, even if they were nice, it was because they were only interested in one thing. In the back of my mind was all those stories from previous volunteers about how they've been called everything in the book and I knew I had to be prepared to handle all of this stuff that would undoubtedly occur to me.

In actuality, I honestly haven't received anything that I would consider harassment. Here is what I've been called so far: empress, beautiful, pretty, pretty eyes, pretty smile, baby, and some other ones that I can't remember. Now, it is possible that I've been called other names and simply didn't hear them or understood what they said. And it also should be noted that I am black, so therefore I blend in a little more than my white colleagues. And I've only been here for about 3 months, so there's still plenty of time left to get harassed. But my point is that it's mentally draining to walk around expecting to be disrespected or taken advantage of. And I think people can sense the fear and you become more of a target than you were before. Sidenote: There's this video of a white lady in an elevator who, after a black man enters, clutches her purse and basically cowers in the corner. Then he yells "boo" and scares her. It's pretty funny. Anyways, am I justified in behaving in a similar way simply because I'm the foreigner in a new, unfamiliar culture? Or is there something slightly racist about assuming that everyone here is a potential thief or rapist? The truth is that stuff happens. Even other Jamaicans are harassed and taken advantage of. So I'm not in any way saying that I should just completely let my guard down and be carefree because that's usually when things do happen. But I think there needs to be a balance.

There's a reason why I wrote this post. This morning I decided to go grocery shopping. On my search for a place to shop, I found out that not many of the grocery stores in Mandeville are open on Sunday morning. I figured that would be the case, but I really needed groceries. Since I don't actually live in Mandeville, I had no idea what store might be open at the time. So I walked and walked and walked and at around 8:45 am, I reached a store that opened at 9. So I waited until 9, went in and did my shopping, and probably bought a little more than what I could actually carry back to my taxi stand. By taxi stand, I mean the place where a group of taxis that go through my town populate and wait for passengers. It was only like a 20 min walk. I could handle that, right? So, after I paid, the guy that bagged my groceries walked me outside and asked where my taxi was. I told him I didn't have one and that I was going to walk. He asked how far I had to walk. I told him where and he expressed shock and said that's too far for me to walk with these bags. So he took my bags and walked with me all the way across the parking lot and down to the road and waited with me until a taxi came by. He stopped the taxi and told the driver where I needed to go and even made sure the driver didn't charge me too much since it's not his usual route. He then loaded my bags into the trunk, told me to have a nice day, and walked back to the store to continue his job. Did he ask for my number? No. Was he anything but extremely nice and helpful? Nope. He went out of his way to help this poor lost American and he wanted nothing in return. This experience along with many others has helped me realize how unfair I was in my thinking toward Jamaican men. Granted, there are some bad ones, just like in any other country. But I hate when the good ones get misrepresented. And there are definitely some good, genuine, hard-working men here who probably don't get the credit they deserve. So, I would like to say thank you to "that guy from the grocery store" since I can neither remember his name or the name of the store.