Once Up a Time in Jamaica

August 17th, 2003. Jamaica Montego Bay, Negril.

A bunch of young 17 and 18 year olds embarked on an unforgettable trip to Jamaica. One of us almost didn't make it because instead of a passport he brought a certificate from the hospital where he was born that featured his tiny footprints on it. Adorable, especially for the fact that Tiggy was now a 275 pound man standing on magnificent giant calf pillars. He got it right the next day and joined Humphrey St. Squad. Yea, that's what the suburban kids called ourselves.

We were only missing one of our mates, Toddy the Shank. P.S for the record I changed everyone's name and nickname out of respect and the fact that it was Jamaica and there are two things Jamaica is truly known for; Bob Marley and reggae and the plant that inspired Bob Marley and his reggae. Giddy and wide-eyed, we flew into Jamaica then got on a bus and road a century. Seeing tropical trees everywhere, beaches, people carrying a variety of fruits and the cloud of weed seemed to have followed us everywhere. We were definitely not in Massachusetts anymore.

Matty was our leader for this trip. We were all new to Jamaica but Matty had been coming here for years so he quickly took the leadership role. He collected a few bucks from each of us to give as a tip to the driver. And boy oh boy did the driver want it. When our bus got to the destination we all buzzed out like bees out of a hive and the bus driver went absolutely irate, "noooo tip!? Nooooooo tip for your drive! Nooooooo tip!?" This went on for several minutes, of him just shouting and flailing, “not tip!” from the top of his lungs until Matty walked out last and handed him a fat roll of $ from all of us. He was smiling again.

We got to our villa and were greeted by a legend. This smiling caretaker, giver, chef, jack of all trades and bubbling soul, a man by the name Juicy. Juicy was truly godsend in a land of paradise. He forever set the bar high for how Jamaican Jerk Chicken should taste. 17 years later and I still haven't eaten anything as good as that chicken. Juicy is sadly no longer with us but his son, Juicy Jr, now takes care of the villa that his dad watched over for decades. The villa was gorgeous, made up of several sized bungalow houses with different grape names; tiny grape, little grape, big grape (ours) and some other grape. It was right on the water and it even had an outside shower. It was magical. The happiness was quite real.

We got even happier when Tiggy arrived. He had a passport this time and even flew first class. He dove into that crisp blue water like a beautiful pale Irish dolphin going home. A big, great smile was glued to his face for the rest of the day. But what made the night we arrived even more magical was that we arrived during the meteor shower. I kid you not, I thought seeing a shooting star every 15 seconds was the norm on this side of the world. I am Jewish so naturally I kept wishing for more money, fat gold rims, and Oprah.

Matty is one of my best friends. Our first encounter was when we were 13 years old and he tried stealing a dumb sticker off of my bike. He clearly was angry and hated that sticker, he didn’t have a bike of his own so I think he just wanted to get rid of it. The sticker sexually insulted mothers and was just offensive towards women in every way. That was the week Mat lost his mom so it would have been a good reason to punch me. He didn't and our paths would meet again. Eventually we grew as brothers.

Jamaica was a tropical paradise but behind our villa gates you really need to have some street smarts. The first night a man approached us and I made a foolish mistake of saying we were here to have fun. Thats when I learned about prostitution. They realized they weren't going to get a dollar out of us but they tried. They tried all throughout the trip-different ones of course but they tried. Everywhere we went it was quite obvious prostitution was another means to survive in Jamaica.

One of my fondest memories was when we were getting a ride from a Jamaican little person pimp with dreads and arms the size of mini dump trucks. Me and this guy put on a freestyle clinic for the ages, trading barbs and flows that no man besides my buddies will witness again. He dropped us off somewhere and of course his ladies of night were all over us. But we were kind and polite and eventually managed to escape them. I made a few sexual jokes here and there but that was to be expected of a nerdy teenager from rough Humphrey St. suburbs seeing skimpily dressed women who were trying to sell him their body for the night.

Although later on in this trip your boy Mish did enter a sex contest at some place called Hedonism and boy was he cheated out of winning first place. Me and my lovely assigned partner smoked the competition. We popped all those balloons faster and we or (rather 100% her) made all sorts of things disappear faster than God had time to forgive. I wasn't going to put my coins into that slot machine. Not even the last 6 dollars and 50 cents that I had in my pocket.

I was broke. I had to borrow money all throughout the trip. But that was ok. I knew I was good for it-and I was. We weren't that great with money primarily having smaller bills. That almost got me killed.

On one sunny afternoon we ate like kings at this restaurant shack we found. It was perfect Right on the beach overlooking the water. The only thing not perfect was that we didn't have smaller bills. I rather volunteered that I go break all these 50s’ and 20s’. No problem. I stuffed the money into my cute Adidas sports bag and off I went like a little curly haired Jewish Riding hood.

Well, this story has a wolf too. He walked out from beneath a palm tree carrying a massive machete, "What ya doing here man!?," he leerd in a strong Jamaican accent. Before I could answer two, more giant Jamaicans wielding machetes surrounded me. But don't be alarmed, your boy Mish was not afraid. I quickly responded with, "yah man, I was having fun with some girls but they robbed me of my money and my phone and now I have been looking for them for hours with thy no hope but thee surrender!" The bad bad wolf took pity on this little liar and even offered help in finding and slaughtering these fictional thieves. I politely said no thank you but that I appreciated the offer. I walked back safe and sound and even managed to break the big bills.

The rest of the trip was safe and still magical. We saw some cool stuff, ate amazing food, and kept great memories that will always make me smile. I won't forget how amazed the Jamaicans were with Big Tiggy and his size. They would say stuff to him like, "you big fat man you play football don't ya!?" And, "you gonna eat all our chicken aren't ya big mannnn!?" To both Tiggy replied with a smile and a "yeahhh".

The night sky was surreal from the day we arrived till the time we left. Never in my life have I seen anything like it. The food was devine in the morning thanks to the late legend, Mr. Juicy. I will also hold on to the memory of that first morning. I humbly recall Matty had a sacred moment not to be interrupted, for it was one of the most sacred things one could witness. He was spreading his beautiful mother's ashes. I should have known that this trip was so much more than it was for all of us. The memory of this trip will never fade with the passage of time. When we grow old we are left with stories and our memories and I was blessed to share my story with the world.