28th August 2006

Disappointing start to this week. The Ginger Ninja, a long time friend from home, has had a formal rejection from the company. He had applied for a position here in Jamaica and things looked positive until the director involved decided to be parsimonious with his budgets. He was also being somewhat inconsistent with recruitment policy, but knowing that individual to be more than a little disorganised this is unsurprising.

To add further insult, the individual left to go on holiday in the middle of this, and without giving the Ginger Ninja a conclusive answer which was terribly unprofessional. GN understandably had already discounted the possibility of the move but I had been secretly harbouring some hope that it would come though. For purely selfish reasons, I was looking forward to a like minded soul with whom I could bemoan the state of Jamaica, while steadily quaffing red stripe. Now that is shattered, my homesickness has redoubled.

Motivation is difficult this morning. Work has progressed little over the last few weeks, like a tropical Groundhog Day. Today I have the distraction of trying to organize flights home for a short break in October. Whether it is possible for me to go or not has yet to be confirmed, but I deserve a little Ireland therapy and making such plans is just the ticket.

27th August 2006

Day 6 of no cigarettes and the very fact I am not smoking has become all consuming. I pity the family, who have to put up with the shortness of my temper and general grouchiness. They are, for the most part, very understanding and supportive, but I don’t know how long I can trade on their goodwill. I am trapped in a vicious circle of concentrating very hard on not thinking about cigarettes.

We had our first hurricane experience. Ernesto quickly deepened on Friday from a depression through a tropical storm to a fully fledged hurricane aiming for a direct hit on Kingston from the south. Plans were laid, and despite the obvious hardships and dangers we were facing, I could not shake the excitement and anticipation of the experience. Board games were purchased for when the electricity went out, yet more water was added to the supplies and we bunkered down. My company was considerate enough to send a team over to board up our windows which added to the sense of occasion. Meanwhile Ernesto had decided that he’d rather visit Haiti and Cuba, no doubt deciding he would get more joy out of wreaking havoc on those less prepared than us.

The failure of Ernesto to show has left us looking rather foolish. We were the only house in the compound to board up in preparation and now we look like panicky and naïve blow-ins. The fact that the boarding up was unsolicited is inconsequential as no-one else could know. Our house now looks derelict as although the landlord has eventually fixed the water tank, he has neglected to fix the housing for it, which coupled with the detritus from that job, the excess building materials and now the plywood over the windows makes the place look like a squat.

21 August 2006

I know I have been moaning a lot recently, so I’ll try to include at least one diary entry without complaining about Jamaica. Easily done; I just won’t mention it.

I am pre-occupied. Today is Day 1 of me no longer smoking. I now fully understand the Tammy Wynette song “One Day at a Time” because Sweet Jesus, the rest of my life is looking like an eternity if I can’t have a cigarette.
I am using nicotine patches and they appear to be working insofar as I have not really craved a cig, but the waves of nausea and flashes of blinding headaches are making me re-consider. After all, the constant breathlessness and the ever-present dull ache in my left arm weren’t so bad! My big problem is boredom. I don’t know what to do with myself when I take a moment away from my work. Inevitably this means drinking yet another cup of coffee and now I find I am totally wired and unable to concentrate for longer than twenty seconds at a stretch. Oh how I long for the carefree immortality of my youth.
The Little Madam took her first tentative steps toward secondary school today. It was fairly anti-climactic though there was much excitement at seeing her name atop her new locker. Two hours in, and she was beginning to bemoan the obnoxious, petty and annoying yanks. It seems she has learnt well at the feet of the master moaner.

17 August 2006

I don’t really know what’s going on with me at the minute in pining for home so much. Is it a Seven Month Itch? The Lady of Leisure thinks I’m going through the third phase of culture shock. Nice concept! The Three Stages of Culture Shock lie somewhere between the Nine Rings of Hell and the Seven Levels of Purgatory. Probably dreamt up my an overbearing Yank with an expensive restorative twelve step programme to get you through.

Actually I think I’m onto something here –Jamaica does lie somewhere in between Hell and Purgatory if purgatory represents the seven deadly sins. I’ll mull this over for a while and elaborate and expound at length at a later date. Dante fans and scholars you will be well warned incase I offend your sensibilities.

We got word last night of an appointment at home that necessitates a family sojourn to the old sod. This was not unexpected and a vague notion of us all retuning for a short holiday has been floating around my sub-conscious for a while but the date was so far in the future and not fixed that the thought didn’t really trouble me. For it to crystallize so sharply now and at a date more than a month earlier than expected was such a joy. It felt like the lights had come on after a particularly long power cut.

So its looking like the middle of October, a mere eight weeks away. Work permitting of course and there is no guarantee that I will be able to get away. Work is a little bit all consuming, but it is the reason we came here. The good money and great experience I’m getting here come at a price, which unfortunately for the next two years means that work calls the shots. It’s all a bit American for my liking where the working day becomes the primary social outlet, and the longer hours you put in mean the more important you are. It's all a big game for small minded people. Notionally work finishes at 5 pm and between 3pm and 5pm the volume of mail noticeably decreases as people save them until 5:15, as if to say “Look how busy I am.” Its all a bit pathetic really.

Even my little tangential rant there cannot darken my mood. My head has been in the clouds since the notion of going home became a reality. Dreaming of my beautiful house with modern furniture, clean lines, natural light and stunning views over the river. (That’s not a sales pitch – just a list of the stark contrasts with my current rented abode.) Dreaming of sleeping under a duvet again… being able to have a glass of red wine that doesn’t have to be poured from the fridge…., ordering a steak in a restaurant and not even considering the possibility that it will actually be under-cooked pork when it arrives at the table….Of course it will be mid-October in the North of Ireland so the chances are the weather with be a miserable as sin. Far off fields only look green because of the amount of rain they get!

13 August 2006

What do you do when you weekend is truncated to one day? Go at the Sunday hell for leather and party like its 1999.

I indulged my home-sickness a little with a thread of normality from my earlier life throughout the day beginning with the Observer delivered before breakfast. The fact that breakfast was a jalapeno and goat-horn chili omelette, washed down with lashings of high peak Blue Mountain coffee and the temperature was already in the low thirties at 7:30 am, in no way diminished the homely feeling.

Swimming in the morning was a joy, though the Little Madam did her share of moaning. An ear infection has precluded her from the life aquatic for the time being. The Wee Lad enthusiastically took the next in his swimming education tough he looks like he is trying to run through the water more than swim.

The Charity Shield had been played earlier in the day, but as I knew it was being re-run I stayed clear of all news programs and settled myself down with a beer. Yeah it was Red Stripe and not Guinness, but you get the idea.. ...

Meanwhile the Lady of Leisure got busy conjuring up a good old fashioned Sunday Roast of stuffed pork fillet and mountains of champ. The weather was even kind to us as the temperature dropped noticeably though I wouldn’t say it got anywhere near Ireland chilly. We, LoL and myself, treated ourselves to a bloody dear bottle of wine, (would have been moderately expensive back at home but second mortgage time over here) and rounded off a thoroughly self indulgent day.

8 August 2006

8 August 2006
Long hours in an overly air-conditioned office though nothing unexpected so I’ll not complain. The whole reason for my holiday was to prepare me for a month of this. I’ll not see the sun now until September, though maybe I might wangle a way to take Sunday’s off, just to keep the tan topped up. One good thing about the long hours is that the Lady of Leisure won’t be nagging me to give up the cigarettes during such a stressful period. I can inhale with impunity.

Just as well too as I really want to lose a bit of weight and its impossible to do the Otis Redding Diet ™ without fags. – For those who cannot fathom the obscure reference Otis has song called Cigarettes and Coffee.

I arrived home to find the shipment of personal effects had finally arrived, a mere 12 weeks after leaving. They have been in port in Kingston for nearly 3 of those and I cleared customs more than two weeks ago. Pace of life can be somewhat clichéd here. I was pleasantly surprised to find all the wrapping intact and it would appear my belonging have all arrived.

The comfort you can find in simple things. A white plate to eat your dinner off and plain glass to drink from. The rented accommodation is fine but the décor can be a little over-bearing, when the ubiquitous floral pattern extends over the crockery and glassware. I’m sure the corn on the cob last night tasted better last night.

I have saved the pleasure of unpacking and arranging my Cd’s for a future time. Just the knowledge that they had arrived safely was enough for last night. A formal ceremony will be held early Sunday before the arrival of the Observer to change the selection in the Cd player that has seen me through the last few months but of which I am thoroughly bored. The Lady of Leisure made the selection and though she tried to be balanced, included far too much of her music for my liking. Sunday I will rightfully re-assert my dominance over the stereo. Oh my god, I think I have been in Jamaica too long.

7 August 2006

7 August 2006
Back to the mudanities of Kingston. Having just spend a very peaceful and civilized 5 days in the north of the country albeit surrounded with yanks, entering the hustle and bustle of Kingston has set me once again into a slough of despond.

I know I’m generalizing but people in Kingston are just more ignorant, barging through queues, shouting over you and generally invading your personal space and when it comes to the complex social etiquette of the highway code…….

Kingston in many ways seems to me all about shows of strength and posturing in a very basic way and while I often find this laughable, like a clapped out Toyota with more filler than bodywork but still has the most bling of shiny spinning rims, it can also feel quite intimidating and threatening.

Coming back into the cauldron, where the thick air refuses to move and the mosquitoes are legion is such a contrast to the light breezes enjoyed on the north coast. Perhaps I’m doing Kingston a disservice and the contrast will always be sharp between holiday and home. I certainly wasn’t the only one who noticed it as the Wee Lad burst into tears as he recognized the house. A bittersweet moment, but I shall take comfort that my son enjoyed the holiday and therefore his education in the finer things in life has got off to a good start.
I came back to a veritable flood flowing down my driveway. Our reserve water tank has not worked since we moved in and used to trickle slightly when filled. We made the mistake of asking the landlord to fix this and to his credit he sent people the next day. They promptly made it worse and in true Jamaican fashion, said they would be back the next day. Repeat twice and now we have Dunn’s River Falls emanating from the foundations. During our holidays a self sustaining eco-system appears to have developed in our driveway. I’m sure I’ll incur the wrath if a number of environmental groups if I fix the tank now. Actually no, this is Jamaica