Three Likkle Stories: ISO Book Deal
Long Bay, Portland Parish, Jamaica
(Not 2 be confused with “Long Road”… Long Bay is between Long Road & Port Antonio in Portland Parish. Disclaimer: DO NOT expect political correctness.)
iPhone 12 Mini. Security. Inbreeding.
Firstly, if U already read Long Road, thank your ancestors from mine. U honor this journey. It’s been a weird one.
Secondly, Mamumba. Hired 2 install security cameras 4 this guest house in Long Bay. Daughter-In-Law is the manager. Knew very little about Rastafari when I arrived perhaps a week before I met Mamumba & felt honored 2 meet this “Rasta”. Mamumba showed off the black castor oil. I was intrigued; after all, I went 2 Edgar Cayce’s massage school where castor oil is a staple. Everything about what this man was telling me (sans the camera installation) sounded coolAF. Went into the jungle 2 get the materials & bought a machine 2 make the stuff. I came 2 Jamaica 2 trade knowledge with Rastas. Not 2 date. Mamumba had other plans. Plans for “Whitey” that are common among men in Portland Parish: Trading sex 4 money. Right before Mamumba disappeared a friend heard the story & laughed. “That’s a gigolo, dude.” Then I started laughing @ the prospect of an older man thinking I can hardly wait 2 pay a “Rasta” 2 lie around & occasionally drive somewhere.
Mamumba was using the full-court press, much like many other 30-somethings who want a White Jesus (savior) with tits. I said the same thing 2 Mamumba I said hundreds of times before. Dinner first. I don’t care where U live. Respect yourself. Respect your guests. Do not try to cram your dry situation into a dry “pumpum*” immediately after dinner. Most Jamaican men I met have no earthly idea what “dating” means. U meet. U fuck. U move on. That’s a great plan except 4 COVID putting everyone’s genitals in a vice & now these 30-somethings & dudes like Mamumba are depressed & angry. I am not in Jamaica 2 date. I am in Jamaica 2 trade wisdom & save money. Not hemorrhage money @ horny Jamaicans. Especially grandfathers. The only thing I ended up doing is trying 2 teach Mamumba how 2 date while also working seven days a week.
The day that pic was taken was the same day the iPhone 12 Mini phone screen stopped working. Mamumba was quick 2 offer 2 fix it. I never saw it again. Anya brought the SIM 2 I & proclaimed this iPhone that wasn’t even a year old “worthless”. This was right before the threats on Anya’s part & an extremely hasty departure as a result. The groundskeeper offered 2 house I in what turned out 2 be a life-threatening situation in Commodore, just up the road from Black Rock where my darling former co-workers live in their family home.
The police do not care. Everyone is related or went 2 school together. Mamumba called the gardener’s phone & wanted $40USD. I hung up. The police told me that kind of scam is standard. No wonder there is a huge divide between tourist & local. Do. Not. Dare. Leave. The. Guesthouse. Property. I dared. Got threatened by this nasty little man who asked I if I liked wells. Pretty sure that meant I would end up in one if I did not get the f out of there. I do not scare easily, however I somehow (with no money or phone) managed 2 Kingston where one of the guests told I 2 lose the gardener & would help I.
AirBnB in Papine. Safe? Nope. Got assaulted by a young man because I had laundry in a broken washing machine. This young man was a former child soldier. Somehow this is on I because the superintendent of police wanted 2 know what I did 2 get assaulted. This corrupt WOMAN owns Footprints Cafe where I ended up doing spoken word poetry & sang Amazing Grace. The man who invited I 2 perform ended up shoving my head into his crotch 2 teach I a lesson about Kingston? That ended the “friendship” that began the night I was assaulted by the young man. The woman in charge of the AirBnB insisted I report the incident 2 the police, but when it came time 4 the court date there was nothing scheduled. Nothing. This kind, Christian woman looked 4 days & found NOTHING with I or the young man’s name. The cool part about Papine? Lots of things, actually… especially meeting MARLENE TOSH!!! No shit. Gf told I that Rita Marley was behind Peter’s death…
I ended up back in Portland. Manchioneal in particular. Hoodwinked by a very talented, very handsome, very crazy young film producer.