On this particular Friday morning, I walked into the plywood establishment/shack on the waterfront and greeted the jovial owner, Reagan. While he began preparing my meal, I took a glance to the back of the room and saw a quiet rasta guy sitting in a corner. Pretty standard, really.
Then shit got crazy. As I was paying for my meal, the rasta dude started having the biggest seizure I had ever seen in my life. My EMT brain immediately kicked in and I moved to stabilize the guy so his head wouldn’t bash into anything, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with yells from the owner saying not to touch him because ‘he is dirty’, and ‘it happens all the time’, and ‘when he wakes up he will beat you if you help him’. Essentially, I had to sit by and watch as a guy had a two-plus minute long seizure. I had to watch as he fell out of his chair and onto a trashcan, and watch as he fell off the trashcan and in the process covered himself in debris. I had to watch as foam poured from his mouth and created a rather sizeable pool on the ground. I had to watch and do nothing – the owner said not to call the ambulance or to intervene in any way. And what was I to do? In America I would have just called for help, but not here. Not in a new culture and a new place. As much as I didn’t like the idea of sitting by and watching the dude go through hell, it would have been much worse to have him come to and attack me. I left the restaurant with my meal – one warning was enough to let me know I didn’t want to be around when this guy came around. I walked away from a man seizing on the floor, and still have no idea what happened to him.
That experience really took me for a turn. I thought about what happened all weekend, and am still in a bit of shock about how differently the situation would have been handled back home. What was I to do? Ruin my relationship with the fisherman and risk getting attacked in order to provide the (minimal and useless) amount of care I could administer? Or stand by and do nothing with but the word of a local guy?
I chose the latter, and while it was probably the right move to make in the situation, it still bothers me. This guy was a seizure risk on no medication, and who knows when the next one will be too much to handle.
After that lovely affair, I headed to Negril to meet a few volunteers for the weekend and celebrate thanksgiving. We didn’t get Thursday off (Jamaicans don’t celebrate American holidays? Who would have thought?), so the weekend was the next best option. The weekend was a pleasant break from the grind – lots of cliff jumping and lazing around and tryptophan. Before the feast however, two volunteers living in Negril had coordinated an effort to help build a local guy a new house, as he currently lived in an 8x8 shack. I spent last Friday afternoon helping move limestone rocks for a foundation, and hope to return soon and help work more on the project. Flashbacks to Habitat – very nice.
Negril is beautiful. See above.
Yeah, we got a turkey in Jamaica. It was awesome. Turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, pumpkin, chicken, green beans, macaroni… all prepared from scratch by volunteers. To say it was much appreciated would certainly be an understatement. Not to mention that I spent the whole day working on my cliff jumping back flip – it was messy at first but I can now consistently do a 15-20 ft back flip without killing myself. Baby steps.
Have I mentioned how much Jamaicans love Barack Obama? He has earned his place next to Usian Bolt painted on the walls of this particular Negril bar for the rest of eternity.
12/01/2008 – World AIDS Day! The school devotion we presented awards to the top three finishers in our essay competition. Kids here rock. Though they have their challenges, their enthusiasm about simple things like essay competition awards or award giving ceremonies is so refreshing. Next year, I hope we can coordinate a bunch more activities than we got to this year, and hopefully I can coordinate some sort of art exchange with Patrick’s community in Piura, Peru. Could be good!
That’s all for now – This week I am trying to tie together my Parent Support Group (the culmination of the last three months of parenting work) and I am hoping for good turnout. Fingers crossed!
I’ll post again soon with more pictures and such… writing this now with no internet so hopefully I can get it up (oh uhh) in the next day or two.
Loving it here! Jamaican PC volunteers have their own unique challenges. On the one hand, the people you know really appreciate your help and your presence. On the other hand, almost everyone you don’t know seems to want something from you. There is no end to the harassment and the begging and it can really get you down. I feel like PC Jamaica is more of a work exchange program than in other PC countries. This is both good and bad (for obvious reasons). In spite of it all, being here is amazing. It is challenging and rewarding and refreshing and relaxing-- somehow all at the same time. Sweet!
Our Thanksgiving gathering. A very unexpected, much appreciated weekend.
Love,
Me
