Jamaica is my adopted homeland. Well, who am I kidding? I only say adopted homeland to mask the sense of excitement I feel when I talk and think about the Caribbean island that I call home.
Jamaica is my home.
It is not the place where I reside, but it is my home. I want to learn more about it and visit more parts of it.
The first time I visited Jamaica was on a group trip with my close friends. We had the typical agenda – stay on the resort, eat and drink until we are satisfied, find beautiful men to watch, dance, and lay around on the beach.
Excursions and all notwithstanding, I started to notice that my favorite times on the island were just driving in the car from the airport to the resort and the impromptu detour to see the birth home of Marcus Garvey. I wanted more of the experience of soaking up the ordinary – the good, the bad, and the ugly.
I wanted to get off the resort.
I have visited Jamaica twice since that initial trip. I traveled solo on both occasions and stayed off the resort. There is a rhythm there that connects with my natural rhythm and it feels like a tight embrace that I can easily relax into.