My 3 Month Stay

     Upon my return from my second trip to Jamaica, I made three pretty rash decisions. The first one, was I was going to go back to Kingston once again for an undisclosed amount of time. This, in turn affected my other two rash and risky decisions, which were 1) that I wasn't going to go back to my full time teaching job I had secured, and 2) that I was leaving Santa Cruz, the place I had called home for the last 10 years. It was a rush and a whirlwind. I knew full well that what I decided to do could definitely back fire because of  its riskiness. I also knew, however that I had to do it, and if I didn't, I would spend the rest of my life regretting it. 

    I finished up the school year and spent my summer squeezing in a summer school teaching job, preparing to move, and making loose arrangements for my stay in Kingston. It all happened so fast, and before I knew it, I was on the road, my car stuffed full to my new life. I stopped in San Diego to store random belongings in my family members' homes, and, before I knew it, was on a flight to Kingston the next morning. 

....

    My trip, of course, did not go the way I planned, but it did end up being one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I ended up staying there for three full months, which ended up making me feel like I actually came closer to living there more than anything else. In three months, I ended up being in both a music video and an extra in a British movie, lived in three different places, became closely familiar with the Kingston bus and route taxi system, and got seriously schooled in quite a few aspects of Dancehall culture, music, and dance. I hiked to the top of a mountain to see all of Kingston, went on a few rocky boat trips to the small island of Lime Key, explored, in depth, the beauty of Hope Gardens, crammed in a car with ten other people on the way to hidden waterfalls, and basked in the beauty of Paint Jamaica. I bought groceries in downtown, and became a regular at Uptown Mondays, Boasy Tuesdays, and Day Rave on Thursdays. 

I left completely alive, and thankful that I was lucky enough to have this opportunity more than anything. I'll go into more detail about this experience in the following posts. 

My Second Real Party

 Going to and arriving at a Dancehall party with mostly foreigners is a completely different experience than tagging along with Jamaicans. This is why I felt a separate account of my second experience was more than necessary. Going with my teacher and his teammates meant I truly was going to see this part of the culture through completely different eyes. 

When I went to my first party with my group of friends at the hostel, all who were white, foreign, and girls, everything was in tip top order, from us leaving our apartment all the way to the trip back home. We got ready together, put on makeup while talking loudly, and left at or around the same time we planned. Getting ready with my teacher was a completely different experience. When he told me we would leave at 2AM, I took that quite literally, and was all set and ready to go at 2:10. Of course, I didn't know him saying that actually meant that's when the alarm would go off after the pre-party nap signaling it was time to start getting ready, that the rest of the team would be there at 3, and the taxi would be there closer to 330 to drop us at the party by 3:45. How naive I was!

After spraying ourselves with half a gallon of perfume and cologne, my teacher, the rest of his team, (and his 14 year old neighbor that decided to tag along), piled into the cramped taxi and headed out into the night. I was given the low down that I would have to enter at a separate time as the boys, and wait for them inside, which I did with a little hesitation. As we walked in, I was told to stick with the neighbor kid, who was going to look after me while the rest of the group headed to the center of the party. 

Walking in to the party, I had a similar feeling as when I went with my friends a few months before; all eyes on me, entering with hesitation; nervous, excited, and a little overwhelmed. While last time I stayed with my girlfriends on the outside, observing, this time I was pulled to what was basically the outer core of the Dancehall. Just as the center of the earth holds the planet's energy, the inside circle does the same for the entire party. Dancing there, and observing everyone was an energetic overflow. I could literally feel it in my veins; the emotion and the fire that rose out of the dancing taking place in that circle was insane. All the while, the neighborhood kid, which in my eyes, age-wise, was a child, became more of an adult than me, transforming into my protector, watching over me as instructed by my teacher while he went to work.

When the party was done closer to 6AM, the exit was not as clear cut as the time before either. While my foreign friends and I made a smooth, clear exit the time before, this time, we stayed and participated in the entire post party mingling, greeting, and handshaking. When that finally ended closer to 7AM, we piled into the taxi once again to reach home just as the heat of the day crept in. 

After all of this, the dancing late at night, epic long party experiences, and sleeping and staying with a real Jamaican household it was still clear to me that I was not yet done. I still needed more time for this place to sink in. My teacher at this point had become more like my best friend, and his family soon became similar to my own, and now I knew I really and truly has a place to return to. 

A classic, post-party shot