http://curiosonari.com/archives/personal/50.php Shannon Sharma's weblog Thu, 29 Jul 2010 17:18:07 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.1.2 http://curiosonari.com/archives/personal/50.php#comment-120 nicole Mon, 17 Mar 2008 23:23:52 +0000 http://curiosonari.com/archives/personal/50.php#comment-120 I couldn't agree with you more. My boyfriend is British/Jamaican. We took his father back to Jamaica this past year after 50 years of being gone, his mother sent him away to live in the UK when e was 15. We flew into Kingston and rotated between his father's sister homes. They had a HUGE piece of land with lots of animals and drove us everywhere up and down, up and down up and DOWN those mountains on the tightest croads with lots of hair pin turns! Yet no one flinched as we whipped by at who knows how fast! We managed a couple days in Montego Bay and I absolutely hated it. There was no home cooked meals, there were mostly white people on the beaches with bad sunburns and hustlers on the streets. Too touristy for me! The trecks through the mountains as we walked the same path his father once did as a boy, meeting and greeting people along the way that surprisingly remembered this boy they called 'Zeke', tracking a mile atleast between houses. Chopping down jack fruit,fresh coconuts and sugar cane... absoluytely heavenly. I would never have known the REAL Jamaica...what a pleasure. I couldn’t agree with you more. My boyfriend is British/Jamaican. We took his father
back to Jamaica this past year after 50 years of being gone, his mother sent him away
to live in the UK when e was 15. We flew into Kingston and rotated between his father’s
sister homes. They had a HUGE piece of land with lots of animals and drove us
everywhere up and down, up and down up and DOWN those mountains on the tightest croads
with lots of hair pin turns! Yet no one flinched as we whipped by at who knows how
fast! We managed a couple days in Montego Bay and I absolutely hated it. There was no
home cooked meals, there were mostly white people on the beaches with bad sunburns
and hustlers on the streets. Too touristy for me! The trecks through the mountains as
we walked the same path his father once did as a boy, meeting and greeting people
along the way that surprisingly remembered this boy they called ‘Zeke’, tracking a
mile atleast between houses. Chopping down jack fruit,fresh coconuts and sugar cane…
absoluytely heavenly. I would never have known the REAL Jamaica…what a pleasure.

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