Monday Travels

So, apparently it takes twelve hours to get from Salt Lake City to Ocho Rios, Jamaica. Becky was sweet enough to pick us up a few hours before dawn. And, Willie was sweet enough to tr edge around in our basement trying to figure out why the furnace decided to go on strike hours before we were scheduled to leave the country. Furnace fixed and puppies left cuddled into an electric blanket (on a shut-off timer) on our couch, W and I headed to Montego Bay by way of Dallas, TX.

Our travels were rather uneventful (we did have to RUN to make our layover, but that's not really unusual for us) but I did believe for a moment that upon our descent into Montego Bay, that we were making a water landing. In any case, global warming will soon be overtaking that coast hugging runway.

Upon landing, we were ushered through customs and into the Sandals airport lounge. W was immediately satiated with Red Stripe on tap. I we ate our first meal in ten hours: tiny little zucchini breads. We were then loaded on a bus and shipped down the coast two hours to Ocho Rios.

The sun was beginning to set amid thick puffy grey and white clouds and we snuggled into the back row of the bus, watching the water break on the sand. I always think that traveling should make the world seem huge. But I always end up having the opposite experience: the world is really so much the same. And, the warm, wet, parts of the world all seem to use the same building materials. Whether we are in Costa Rica or Puerto Rico or Vietnam we always see concrete block structures in partial disrepair or abandonment, accessorized with rusting corrugated metal, and guarded with stylish pink or blue powder coated metal gates.

Leaving Montego Bay, the hillside was crowded with an out-and-out slum: tiny rooms, built upon each other, made of reclaimed building materials, usually just stacked block without rebar or any masonry materials and a lot of structural optimism. As we winded along the wrong side of the two lane road, however, the houses became more substantial and more square and sound.

Every home, with the exception of the most barren shack, is covered with bars and fences which must sadly obstruct their otherwise optimal ocean views. And, W and I can't help but feel the tug of the great injustice of wealthy travelers in a poor and beautiful country. We kept re-estimating how much of our money will stay in Jamaica and how much with be exported to multinational corporations. Who knows.

It was dark when we arrived here last night. And, we were tired and thankful when they ushered up toward our very lovely 'honeymoon' cottage. Everyone thinks we are on our honeymoon here, so I guess they figured they would just upgrade us to the right level of rooms. And, any way, two days after Christmas we will celebrate six years of being together. Six Years!