Weekend in Jamaica

The sun was shining.
The weather was sweet.
Girl pickney in abundance.
And so were the colors.



We left our island home for Jamaica.

Plain.


Day One

Parents' Weekend at the tony boarding school. The oldest in the nation, seen suh?

We are the family that doesn't quite look like the Kennedys. Nor the Bushes. Nor the royal family of Dubai, all of whom have attended this high school. S'aright. We know we a royal-tee of our own making and we belong there, too. Big girl pickney prove soh.

The King and I arrive on campus with likkle girl pickney in tow. Yes, we sit through mini versions of Chemistry and English. History and Religious Philosophy (that raised some Kingly eyebrows). Math and Francais. Then the Head Mistress gives us all one big chat, lunch and DONE.

Back to our bredren and sistren's home in Jamaica.

Plain.

Wifeys wan' fi sekkle in for a chat and a re-connect and gossip 'bout husbands. Must.
No mattah, Kings, we will cook the fish 'pon the grill, man -- we haff one next mission for you. Wifeys insist Kings make one bredren mission bakka cam-PUSS.


Big girl pickney needs to be retrieved to join us in Jamaica.

Plain.


Big chat ensues. Consternation. Dis-TANCE. High-WEH. Ball of confusion. Bredren wan fi sekkle in for a chat and a re-connect.

And gossip 'bout wifeys. Must.

No, man, we no want fi drive -- dat some faddah bizness. You two Kings go get the girl pickney. Seeemple, man, we'll draw you a map.......

Well it appears that the drive up was a snap. Only 25 miles north, highway, exit, smaller highway, exit, drive straight on to campus. One hour passes, I say to other wifey, "well, no news is good news, they must soon arrive."

Cell phone immediately rings. Disgruntled voice of big girl pickney mumbling something about highwway signs saying something about exits to a ski area and the presumption that they are, um, slightly disoriented.

Lost.

Two and a half hours later, after much google mapping, cell phoning and gnashing of teeth and gossiping 'bout husbands and, no doubt, more gossiping about wifeys - they roll in to Jamaica.

Plain.


"Well at least they bought me some snacks," says the big girl pickney, unfolding herself out of the back seat and stretching her long legs. Yes, wifeys agree, the Kings are good at keeping a car full of people adequately supplied with snacks.

Following a map? Not so much.


Day Two

Coffee and tea in the yard in Jamaica.

Plain.

Discussions about art, and mural painting and inner city yewt-dem and yard life and opportunity fi werk and allah deh big baby-dem in yard who want munny. Discuss plans to go to Mess-tee-koh next vacation instead of yard.......Brunch at the cafe. Shopping on Newbury Street. Then to a farm for picking out a punk-keeng.




Mission accomplished. Without gettin lost in Jamaica.

Plain.



Good times with good family and good friends. Happy fall..............

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