Jamaica: Days 5 - 7 Montego Bay and Ocho Rios

About a half mile off this dock is where we went diving.


Scotchie's Jerk Centre yummmm....


Dunn's River Falls--it's MUCH bigger than what this picture suggests.


The beach directly across from the UWI Mona Western Jamaica Campus Hall of Residence--what a mouthful!


The view from my room's balcony!

2,970 word count. Sorry I’m so long winded. The post might be a little confusing because I switch between past and present tense as much of what I documented occurred as I was writing.

Day 5 –

I’m presently experiencing unprecedented levels of perspiration due to my 30 minute power walk in long jeans + Jamaican heat (good thinking Gerbers!) to the UWI Bookstore in search of an SD card for my camera. I realized that there was no way that I was going to be able to survive on my camera’s internal memory of 7 pictures this weekend, so at 4:30 this afternoon (Friday) –30 minutes before our scheduled departure— I got the bright idea to buy one at the UWI Bookstore, so away I went. Mission accomplished, but it came at a price. I’m drenched. But at least I can take 1,193 more pictures than before.

So, backing up—this morning I met with Professor Jennings-Craig, Director of the School of Education. We discussed the structure of the SOE, collaboration with the Ministry of Education, accreditation, and articulation between primary, secondary, and tertiary levels of education. She was very thoughtful and made several observations about the country’s educational system that helped me better understand the process of student matriculation as well as logic for offering certain degree programs. UWI Mona’s SOE offers a significant number of bachelor’s and master’s degree programs, two of which are literacy studies and curriculum development. I’m not sure if FSU or UGA offer degrees in either. I figured the closest comparison to curriculum development might be program evaluation. After thanking her for her time, Marcia and I went to the bank where I learned how devalued the US dollar is. 8.3:1. Ugh.

I started my actual work-related responsibilities this afternoon in Rex Nettleford. Ms. Jackson (Hall Manager) wants to create a program for the male students in her hall that addresses values identification, role modeling, and ethical behavior specifically targeted at men. The ratio (ready for this?) at UWI Mona is 8:2 female:male. And we thought FSU was bad. With male matriculation at just over 20%, every male at UWI Mona is considered at risk, regardless of whether they’re on-hall or commuting. Ms. Jackson was out of the office all afternoon, so I had free reign over her office to complete my work…and gchat…stupid internet dependency. I found some interesting models for ethics programming and male college student value identification. I actually stumbled across an article by our very own Mark Pontious and cited him. Nice work, Mark. I also emailed my conduct/housing dream team asking for idea submissions. Thank you for your feedback!

After throwing some gear in a travel suitcase, I trekked through some less-traveled campus paths to the bookstore (still working on charting the most direct route to the center of campus. I’m sure I looked ridiculous to any observers) and now I’m back at the Rex ‘Plex waiting for our bus to cart me and a few others to Montego Bay/western Jamaica for the weekend.

(2 hours later)

My bus drive was my first exposure to the poverty of rural Jamaica. The UWI campus doesn’t reflect the condition of poverty that is evident in many other parts of the country. Poverty and affluence come in pockets and disappear just as quickly (you can guess which one is more prevalent). Poverty does not look the same in the United States. Tin huts line the road, even along the steep mountain paths. People sit on the side of the street…just existing. There are small shops that look worn but still seem to generate sustainable business. We drove along the _____ Gorge, which extends for about 2 miles with steep mountainous vegetation growing on either side. The water is a dense, milky color due to the country’s abundance of limestone. After being on the road for about 2 hours (around nearly 8 PM—it’s pitch black outside by this time), we stopped at a roadside stand selling roast corn. Jamaican roast corn is not the same as American corn on the cob. As it turns out, corn is much better when it’s mildly browned with a light salt rub than it is when it’s slathered with loads of butter. I suggest you try it.

After driving through the windiest mountain pass EVER (narrow, bumpy switchbacks every 100 feet for 45 minutes straight– and our drivers could rival Ricky Bobby for speed records–I’m not prone to motion sickness but it was certainly testing my limits), we stopped for dinner in Ocho Rios at Scotchie’s Jerk Centre. Authentic jerk chicken/pork/fish that tastes nothing like the pathetic excuse that Americans (me in particular) try and pass off as jerk-style. The chicken is smoked and rubbed with a variety of spices of which I could not possibly identify, and holy cow is it SPICY. Spiciest meal I have ever had—and I dump pepper and hot sauce on everything. Absolutely fantastic—best chicken I have ever had. Scotchie’s has the coolest setup. Despite being along a tourist strip, the restaurant isn’t well marked from the outside, so it keeps most of the out-of-town traffic away. The dining area is a simple wooden outdoor gazebo lined with dozens of flowers. The jerk house itself is open air, with two large smoking pits that the cooks line with chicken and pork and cover with tin sheets. The cook takes a whole chicken and slices and dices according to the order (i.e. ¼ lb chicken, breast and thigh). I had chicken with a bottle of coconut water. It’s exactly what it sounds like. Surprisingly it was not as sweet as I expected, but refreshing nonetheless. I told myself that I was not going to embarrass the rest of my party by taking a picture of Scotchie’s, but I snuck a few anyway on our return stop.

After dinner, we had about an hour of additional drive time to reach Montego Bay. I have finally made a friend here! Her name is Rishma and she’s from Trinidad. She’s my age. Rishma was on campus applying for an R.A. position in Rex (she’s a former Rexian), and Ms. Jackson invited her to join us for the weekend. Rishma got her B.A. in geology and she was just accepted to the Disaster Management Master’s Program. I had such a great time swapping stories with her in the car. She dives, and she told me all about her advanced open water certification in the Caribbean (lucky!). She taught me cricket, I taught her baseball and American football. In Trinidad, they go to clubs for fun, we go to concerts. I realized tonight that I, along with the rest of my generation, take for granted that we get premier bands that tour in the US. I’ve seen Coldplay three times. Rishma told me that Trinidad doesn’t get famous acts until they’re been out of the game for about a decade. Kenny Rogers and Michael Bolton recently sold out in Trinidad. How painful is that? She’s on campus until Wednesday, so I hope we have some fun before she leaves.

We eventually made it to Montego Bay. This is the tourist haven of Jamaica. We stayed at the brand new UWI Mona Western Campus Hall of Residence. It’s a hotel that was renovated into a Hall, so all the rooms were huge. I had a fabulous walk-out balcony overlooking the bay. It was lovely. However, it was NOT peaceful. The local crew lines the streets at night with cars, music, beer, snacks, and...something else. There is reggae music blaring through my closed door. It’s quite a sight. I haven’t said much about the reggae presence on the island yet. I’ll save that for my tour of Bob Marley’s house. But until then, trust me. It’s there.
Thoughts on the experience:

The realization that I’ve been here for almost a week hit me this afternoon. I can’t decide if the experience has felt long or short. I guess it depends. Rod made a comment on an earlier post that he was impressed that I took the time to type such detailed reflections. Truth of the matter is that I write them down first and then time them whenever I can get to a computer. I just flipped back a few pages to the notes I made from last night. They’re pretty darn close to illegible. I took a picture so that you all could see the hieroglyphics that I have to translate:



This evening makes my first opportunity to enjoy a Jamaican sunset. The view from campus isn’t very good because I’m surrounded by mountains. Tonight I’m sitting on a ledge on the edge of the beach directly in front of the Western Jamaican Campus Hall of Residence. I’m surrounded by locals. It’s mostly families enjoying the calm water, but there are a few guys setting up early for the nighttime festivities, and they’re definitely smoking something that does not smell like tobacco. There’s a local’s bar directly adjacent to the hall of residence (keep in mind that it’s a former hotel), so this location draws a crowd. I can’t even fathom how large a disaster it would be to have an FSU residence hall on a beach next to a bar. Entertain that idea for a moment.

Day 6

Jamaicans run a more relaxed schedule than Americans. We rolled out of the Hall around 9:30 and grabbed breakfast at Hotel Montego. The hotel is far from a five star resort; it’s an ancient-looking building on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. I adored it. Speaking of the ocean, I have yet to officially comment on Jamaica’s waters. Florida’s gulf coast and the Bahamas have pretty water, but western Jamaica puts them both to shame. Pure sapphire and cyan. I don’t have the lexicon worthy of adequately describing the waters, so I’ll let the pictures do the talking. But I digress. Hotel Montego has a little hidden-away patio restaurant that was just charming. We had a huge (surprise) breakfast of something that resembled collared greens, green bananas, boiled dumplings, fried dumplings, and my favorite, grilled swordfish, Jamaica’s national dish. As first sight, it looks like scrambled eggs and peppers. It’s salty, spicy, and fresh. Ironically, swordfish is no longer native to the waters of Jamaica, but it’s still the national dish.

1 ½ hour drive back to Ocho Rios to Dunn’s River Falls and Park. The flora in and around Ocho is breathtaking. I have an entire album dedicated to the flowers of Jamaica. The park is interesting. There’s a food court, overpriced craft shops, beach access…oh, and this enormous waterfall that runs into the ocean. Climbing the falls takes about an hour. Visitors have the option of climbing with a guide who helps guests navigate the safest path up the falls, but Rishma and I didn’t feel like waiting on the crowed so we and a few others took the more difficult route. It’s not a particularly difficult climb, but slippery spots make for interesting maneuvers, and yours truly took a spectacular tumble right in front of two really cute guys when I was trying to look graceful. Welcome to my life. It’s a climber’s dream. Sitting underneath a natural waterfall is one of those “hey, life is awesome” moments. I knew this before I got to the island, but tourists (plural, not singular—I do realize that I’m one too) really distract from a place’s natural beauty and authenticity. We forewent Mystic Mountain because it looked too contrived. We stopped for Devon’s Ice Cream at Island Village (another tourist trap, but the coconut ice cream was great), before heading back to Montego Bay. We stopped at Scotchie’s again for a late lunch (where I snapped a few quick pictures) before calling it a day. I just spent the last hour on the shore journaling, and now I’m completely exhausted. I will hopefully be diving Doctor’s Cave Beach tomorrow morning.

Day 7

I finally took my training wheels off and went on a dive without the guidance of Uncle Dave. Of my whopping 9 total dives prior to today, I’ve had Dave’s watchful eye (and equipment) on the last 5—all of which happened in the last two months. I didn’t know what to expect this morning. Diving is such a technical activity that takes a lot of planning and research, and fortunately for me, Marcia was kind and thoughtful enough to do some major research on available dive sites in Montego Bay. I honestly thought I might have to settle for snorkeling –which would have still been a privilege in THE CARIBBEAN—but Marcia’s efforts came through in a big way. We arrived at Doctor’s Cave Beach around 10:00AM. DCB is a private beach with a beautiful patio and gazebo overlooking the water. Upon arrival, I scanned the area for any signs of a dive shop or evidence that divers used this area. As I’m surveying my surroundings, a man approached us and said “Mr. Nelson’s my name, and diving’s my game.” Jackpot. I looked behind him and saw a bag with a ton of gear, and beyond that, what appeared to be a dive boat.

Mr. Nelson is a contract diver who has been in the business for about 22 years. He leads recreational diving and construction diving (mapping reefs, laying cables, etc.). Rishma and I fit our fins and set out for a series of reefs about a half mile off shore. Mr. Nelson set up our tanks/BCDs/regulators and asked us to check our equipment. Once everything had checked out, we put on our gear and literally rolled out of the boar to start our dive. This was my 2nd saltwater dive and first boat dive, which meant it was also my first roll entry. I was pretty nervous about 1) hitting my head on the back of my tank and 2) looking like a complete idiot. Clearly I made it just fine. Rolling off the back of a boat is pretty fun, as it turns out.

With Rishma as my dive buddy, we followed Mr. Nelson to Widow Maker Cave, a boot shaped cavern about 45 feet below the surface. The cavern goes straight down another 20 feet and curves right to form the boot (or capital ‘L’). 20 feet down, 20 feet in length. It was very narrow, so we had to travel through the cave one at a time. I went first! I hate that I don’t have my underwater camera to illustrate any of the following descriptions, but I’ll do my best. We traveled through a series of about four reefs, making a large square. The visibility was 120 feet, and despite PADI Basic Open Water (my level) only certifying me to 60 feet (of which Mr. Nelson was well aware, but he couldn’t short-change us on the views!), we still went to a max depth of 90 feet like it was nothing. Clear as day. Diving in these reefs ranks as one of the most memorable experiences of my life. It is absolutely mind-blowing to see and experience the reef system. We saw (and held) live queen conch, king crab, wild lobster (which Mr. Nelson picked up so we could pet it—those suckers are FAST), lots of brightly colored blue, orange, yellow, and spotted fish (clearly I need to get a species identification book so that I don’t have to sound so ignorant as to say “blue fish”, and a 3 foot long eagle ray right before we surfaced. We saw brain coral, sponge coral, potato coral, fan coral, and dozens of other types of which I have no chance of identifying. The nice thing about most corals is that they are appropriately named. Diving in clear blue saltwater feels like you’re flying over the world of Finding Nemo. We swam in the middle of schools of hundreds of fish that darted, sank, and turned in unison. 40 minutes felt like 5. And the water felt fantastic. None of us wore wetsuits. I’m used to wearing thick 5ml suits with a hood and skin. It’ll be hard to go back to the cold freshwater springs in Florida after this. What a treat. As this was my tenth dive, I’m still and novice and totally look like it, but I am getting better!

We spent another hour on the beach (and water trampolines! Fun at any age…) before grabbing a quick lunch and getting on the road. One last stop at Scotchie’s before going back to Kingston.