I bet anything you break a piece off tonight!

gawd ye of big faith... believe me nowt doin' for me here... although the generator is being turned off in a tick so we were just given a candle and a box of matches. That's perhaps when the real fun will happen. I just read MSN news they say the troops are patrolling to keep the peace... so I call National Security and they said "what!? Where do u get that idea from"
Amazing what shit is on the news.
Pray for a shag...for me oh an pray that all the people are safe.
Fashion note... have moved onto thick wedge shoes since the water is coming into my room and its tough to paddle in ballet slippers.
Took a wee nap - in my clothes ... am thinking I will be in my clothes all night. BUGGER! First night EVER in 20yrs of visiting JA where I sleep alone and with me kit ON! jeez
ok lights off now...
wee willie winkie

Waitin to hear you comin out the other side A-Okay.

Kind of like being born no?

Reminds me of all the tornados I sat out in the mid-west. You just hunker down in the sump room in the basement as this sound of a train crash slowly moves down the street and most the air gets sucked out of the room. There is not a thing you can do but listen to the radio, the crashing and blowing up outside, and your own heartbeat while you wait. A person can't stay hyper edgy for more than a half hour so you tend to unwire in your muscles and get this 'what the hell' sense of calm tinged with an anticipatory curiosity. Force of nature sure makes a human feel inconsequential.

Give us a line when you can get your head up. You sound like your are doing just fine so far.

All good.... actually you get really blase about it all after a while. It was sort of like the sound of waves crashing or low flying air crashed coupled with tin roof tiles smashing, glass and trees. Allot of the tiles on the hotel roof have gone - next door the higher rise hotels windows smashed out. I went on the road and drove around and allot of traffic lights, telegraph poles and trees blocking the road but no major madness. It's all fine. Infact in comparrison to New Orleans - JA managed it much better and took care of its folk much better. No dead folk floating around for days ignored here.... People are much calmer and understand natures signs allot better. Chums kept telling me that they are seeing birds and lizards so they knew it won't be that bad as it came ... They knew the signs.
For me now I am just bored an lonely since most of my chums are either in industries (like government or construction owners) who need to be working emergency all day. Or they are pals who are way out of town where the water supply is bad. So I chose to stay here but it's means am isolated. But the electricity is back on so I have you guys on the boards.
Don't know when I can get back... but hope it's soon! I miss my tyke so bad.

You totally mad wild woman... the Eye just missed! Loved all the costume changes, like going to wedgies to keep your feet dry!

Dean is relentless, going after those numbered accounts in the Cayman Islands, then on to Mexico where it increases to level 5....

Stay safe!
And get some nookie.

Slide show --

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/20/world/americas/20cnd-...?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin

This message has been edited. Last edited by: S'tan,

AN/ So glad you are safe and okay. What a memory you shall have my dear. I loved all the costume changes too. And Shaggy the celebrity taxi driver giving you a spiff. So thoughtful and kind.

18 hours is a long time to go missin in a hurricane baby. Sure is a relief to know you are just fine.

Don't worry about the anti-climax, your life is a reglar old hurricane all by itself!

Yesterday morning I spent from 7am until 8am on the phone with US travel agents who were just utterly hopeless. My hotel had lost power again so I thought I would walk up the road to the larger Pegasus hotel (the hotel where they found the dead cricket manager!). I popped inside and collected e-mail ...which they charged me $5 US !for (cheeky bastards). Then walked up to the air Jamaica office, being ever so careful to step over the power lines that were on the floor and the many downed trees. The clear up was fast and the locals were already out with chainsaws chopping up trees etc. It was really impressive - especially when u compair to how the US handled New Orleans. I arrived at Air Jamaica office only to find them without power and the staff sitting on the wall with note pads and cell phones trying to help. With help from my contacts (wink wink) I managed to get myself on a flight to Florida but I would have to leave immediately! Armed with just a scrap of paper with a locator (they took my credit card info on the phone etc!). I leg it back to the hotel throw everything into my bag, tell the team at the front desk since they couldn’t check me out since their system was down we all had an honors system! The airport was chaos – masses of people in a panic to get into the doors and security staff being vigilant at the gates. Inside was worse as the power was down and no air conditioning and no computers but they were still trying to check people on! I manage to find the woman (irish woman) who was to help me and she got me a scrap of paper that confirmed me on the flight! Once inside the terminal it was bedlam just hordes an hordes of people in infernal heat with no relief in the dark. Thank God for my local cell phone since it kept me sane. There was one point were I thought I might pass out when I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten or drank since the night before and was still in the same filthy clothes that I’d slept in. (They thought another storm might hit in the night so I was scared not to be prepared). I’d not washed since we didn’t have an water and I stank. Kassa called me frantic to check where I was since the Pegasus was on fire and there was no sign of fire trucks. I lay on the floor as the tiles were cool put my legs up on my suitcase and felt less dizzy. I put the ipod on an listened to Debussy then Joni Mitchell which seemed to really help.
It wasn’t until 5pm that I got out of that place. People stayed calm and we all talked to each other, swapped numbers, made friends and cheers and applauded each time the lights went on (even though they seemed on only get these 10min bursts of power). I’m amazed they even got flights out. I’m amazed people didn’t totally freak and fight an panic. I was happy too that as I lay on the floor I had some nice scenery as most of the guys in the terminal took off their shirts since it was so hot. At least I had that to be thankful for. But jeez I looked a mess.
By the time I reached Fort Lauderdale around 8pm I found a disabled toilet locked myself in like a crack head and stripped down for a sink wash. Yes dear chums it had to be done. I changed into the only clean clothes I had – a fancy frock and heels! And bought another new ticket on jet blue to Newark.
Now am here, in my business suit at work.
Please can I have another birthday… I think I lost this one.

Friends took me to the worst hit area a place called Caribbean Gardens by Harbor View in Kingston. As soon as I got there I wanted to leave. There was an awful morbid sense fo curiosity and I stuck out like a sore thumb. Homes just mashed up and looted, army was there but you could feel the tension in all the gangs and the loss. I was nagging and begging my chums to get me out of there and NOW cos I just felt totally unsafe (and i NEVER feel unsafe in JA but this was really different). I snuck one photo in from that area, this was it. But u realize why i didn't take any more shots.

AN/ Welcome home. So glad you got back safely and all in one piece.

I saw that same place on CNN.
I remember the red car.

Welcome home.
Did Luka understand what was going on?

So, am back in Kingston town. Weather is breezy 80s just warm and wonderful.
Just enjoying some warm welcomes from all the folks I know in the neighbourhood. I love the daily in yer face interactions here... a quick jaunt down the road and you will have spoken to at least seven people. And at least one will have remembered you from last time.
I am finally in size 10 jeans - no mean feat considering I've been the hefty hidaway gyal for a while... but considering the amount of eating I am doing since I've been here I might have to head back to Lane Bryant. For some crazy hormonal reason I can't stop eating all the great food. Cornmeal porridge for breakast (or peanut porridge) then oxtail or brown stew chicken for lunch (with rice and peas of course) and steamed fish for dinner of course with sides of festival (savory donuts). That coupled with a mix of Guiness and Red Bull and dont get me started on all the amazing Jamaican cakes!! Everything has rum in it for a start and is rich and moist and creamy! mmm mmm mmm
They might have to roll me umpalumpa style onto the plane!
Last night I went out and met this 'finance' guy here (hes funding allot of projects in JA) everyone told me he was this fancy guy from London. Turns out... he's from mi home town, Liverpool and as common as muck (or as ME). Funny as hell conversations we were having about typical "liverpool families" and how even at his wedding his brother broke a bottle and stabbed him at the stag party! ahhh and people wonder why I feel so safe in JA!! Great guy, great contact for me too.
Anyway,I think I have to take a nap now before director buddy comes to get me ... he's nocturnal and expects me to be too.

I miss mi JA bwoy back in NYC .... madge will u keep him busy for me!!

Oh I can't wait for this next report.

Welcome to Hell(shire).



Hellshire, Jamaica is a local beach not far from Kingston town; rougher rugged ramshackle kind of beach, what it lacks in beauty it well makes up for with personality.

“Ice Cold Beers! Cigarettes, Wata!” the lanky toothless man hawks, “Wata! Hygrade! IceCold Beers!” the local word for herb was carnival barked like a brand name with a smirk. Welcome to Hellshire!

Small crudely constructed huts with corrugated zinc roof, painted in brightly chipping paint litter a yard from the tide. Between this maze of huts cars drive and park jazz style, sand covered kids play in their underwear; people sell all matter of goods while hard pumping reggae keeps the vibe.

My blokie and I wander the maze of huts and shadowed corners reading the rough hand painted signs “Steamed Fish, Fried Fish, Lobster and Festival”. This is where the lines of Jamaica and Africa become blurred. The energy here is more African than Caribbean to me, more of a jarring edge than a laid back breeze.

“Mi a get di steam fish an mi wifey av di fried” my blokie says to the dark dread. I smile a warm grin as I hear the strong sing song Jamaican accent that my blokie has when he’s back home. I am sure I’m the same in Liverpool (or as we say in ‘da pool dee doo do don’t dee”). “don’t forget festival” I said as I saw the long tasty savory stick‘donuts’ frying in his pan. We chose our fish that the fishman had just thrown into the old cooler box. I chose a vivid blue faced parrot fish while blokie chose two huge fat red scaled snapper fish with comical buck teeth. They carry the fish to the back kitchen which is the area sectioned off with chicken wire and the cooking is on a huge open flame fire.

Being Jamaica each primitive hut has an impressive full bar. I’m somewhat concerned as my blokie seems to be the Pope of Hellshire as he’s given full reign to help himself behind the bar. A few ice cold Guiness and Ginger Wine bottles later I begin to wonder if it’s because he’s really bad or really good that they give him such respect?

A short moon faced man wonders over with a dirty bucket and a purple wash cloth. He slams the bucket on the table for my blokie and says “12 or 24? Sweet or hot?”

“Mi waaan two dozen but lemma see di bokkles”. At this point the moon faced man pulls out a few plastic water bottles with pierced holes in the top each one seems to be filled with twigs, peppers, garlic, onions and topped with vinegar.

Removing the lid from his plastic bucket he starts fast and furious shelling these tiny barnacled oysters as blokie devours each one after shaking the hot vinegar mix at top.

At this point it’s a full on orgy of taste, sound and smells. The rough lyrics from Kingstons new ghetto hero Movado blast the speakers, blokie dances with his Guiness and his tall stick of ganja as two huge army men carrying automatic weapons walk in. My heart sunk as my English reserve told me that this would only mean one thing - a raid with immediate arrest for blokie with the illegal drugs. Welcome to Hellshire! Both of the men start dancing their weapon cocked up in the air as Movado sings “mi an mi dogs ever strap!” knees jerking upwards in dance in their army camos and full metal jackets. They too help themselves to a Guiness and sit down at one of wooden planked tables weapons laid flat next to their steaming mounds of fish. To make things even more like the star wars cantina two young foppish guys come in dressed like the panto version of the Little Rascals and proceed to camp it up and dance foolishly in body contorting bawdy fashions. The small crew watching clap along so they stretch out the show to the point of one of the men walking around the shack crab style as everyone laughed.

Our fish arrived and it was perfect, fresh melt in the mouth morsels, crisp on the outside, moist and flavorful. The festival was so delicious and the Guiness icy cold! I dream of this meal now every day.

“Ice Cold Beers! Cigarettes, Wata and Hygrade!” the salesman returns.

“Welcome to Hellshire” my blokie says “Welcome to Jamrock!”