Well This Isn't Kingston...

It's 10:30 am, the sun is bright and warm, un like the magnifying glass heat you feel in the twin island republic I refer to as Kingston and St. Andrew. The roosters that aren't exactly apparent crow throughout the day. The dogs shuffle and scuffle, the rest or creatures laze, graze and bask in the breeze. I watch the clothes drying in the sun and breeze. The ackees, breadfruit, apple and mango trees all seem to strum along to the easy pace of life. This gentle folks is definitely not Kingston.

12:00 midday, people shuffle through "gulley"(bottom of Orange Street for the unfamiliar) selling wares, smoking weed, smoking cigarettes, selling fruits, cussin', chatting and I as struggle to navigate the Car through human traffic and the familiar stench of uncleaned drains wafts in, it dawns on me that in Mobay the pedestrian, loiterers and Mad people (vagrants for the Trinidadian) are king. They drag their collective feet through every corner, crevice, street and lane. In Kingston I'm positive most of them would have been in the hospital or dead by now.