“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” ~ Mary Oliver.

It has been said that travel broadens the mind. The thing about cliches is that they are often true, but repetition has rendered them trite.  On my recent visit to Jamaica I was reminded that when things are finite, they are valued and thus conserved.  In a place like the US, where it seems that everything is limitless, we are way more casual about their use.  Whether it is water, resources, healthcare, energy, space for homes or trash, in the US we act as if there will always be more, so let someone else worry about conservation.

It is good to spend a little time being more aware of the limits of this planet.  When you live on a small island, the infrastructure has a hard time dealing with the number of people and vehicles.  This leads to some of those things which mar your stay, such as jarring scenes of piled up litter.  These may be an official pick-up site, but the trash bin is hidden by overflowing bags and trash.  This is quite apart from general litter which dots the landscape.

In the country, where amenities may have to be self-resourced, people are much more conscious of the waste they produce.  Supermarkets have long since gone to charging for grocery bags.  The ‘scandal bags’ of yesteryear are banned.  These were so called because they were dark, non-transparent, obscuring from view what the person was carrying, which presumably could have been scandalous! If it is one thing you learn quickly in Jamaica, is that the play on words is delicious, obscuring or clarifying meaning with clever turns of phrase. 

When we stayed in the country we had to get used to having no paper towels at hand to wipe up any spills, dry our hands, or any of a hundred other uses.  Nothing wrong with using washable towels or dish cloths.  May mean more to wash, but less to fill up a trash bin.  When you have to literally pay for water to be delivered (it may back up another unreliable source, or be the only source), you try not to waste a drop.  And of course, if you don’t have a water heater, and the water is frighteningly frigid in the early morning up in the hills, you are already motivated to make your morning ablutions as efficient and brief as possible!

Back in the US it is easy to slip back into old, wasteful habits.  After all, trash is picked up and removed from view.  Water is an ever-present amenity.  The power rarely goes out.  I left my stash of reusable bags at home, why not take another plastic one? Mount Trashmore is pleasantly disguised, grassed over, hiding the ever-increasing piles of evidence of our wasteful existence, what do I know about floating barges of trash out at sea?  Not my problem. I was distressed to learn that, just as in Brazil, there are communities which grow up around the edges of the dumps in Jamaica, those who scavenge for resellable items, and even for material to create a shelter, a home for themselves.    

Thankfully I have read of many efforts worldwide to reuse and recycle, to turn plastic into useful items, and even in Jamaica, there are pockets of resistance, glimmers of innovation.  There are homes (not enough) that have solar cells capturing that renewable source of energy and life.  But of course, it takes money to be able to afford to kit out your home with solar cells and batteries.  And, as mentioned last week, everywhere people rely on sun and wind to dry their clothes.

Although there is a healthy tourist scene, with multi-story resorts looking like any tourist destination in the world, and plenty of places of natural beauty that have been developed into enticing spots, I was troubled to see other areas neglected and seeming to fall into disrepair.  Jamaica (original Taino name ‘Xaymaca’, meaning land of wood and water) has a rich history, beginning with those indiginous Arawaks and Caribs (who were almost completely wiped out by their contact with the first colonizers, the Spanish).  The English followed and removed the Spanish, though some place names still reveal the Spanish presence (Rio Bueno, Rio Cobre, Ocho Rios to name a few).  The Atlantic Slave Trade captured and brought enslaved Africans to the island, and in later years (once that profitable slave trade was abolished), Indians and other indentured servants were transported to join the mix. 

The Spanish capital of the island, now called Spanish Town, but previously named ‘Villa de la Vega’ (town on the plain) and subsequently ‘Santiago de la Vega’ which became St. Jago de la Vega (St. James on the plain), was established in 1534.  It is said to be the longest continually occupied town in the Western Hemisphere.  So, a town with a long history.  In the town square (now called Emancipation Square), there are many red-bricked buildings, handsome Georgian structures, such as the Court House, the King’s House (where the Governor of Jamaica lived, appointed by whoever was King or Queen of England at the time), and the House of Assembly.  In 1872 the capital was moved to Kingston.  Unfortunately time has not been kind to these old, elegant structures. Some have been destroyed by fire, some rebuilt, others not.  The red bricks which were brought by the British as ballast on ships which would carry the raw sugar back to England to be refined (and was the source of great wealth for the plantation owners) were used in the construction of these old buildings.  Unfortunately, although Spanish Town is a ‘Jamaican National Heritage Trust’ site, (http://www.jnht.com/tours_spanish_town.php) there appears to be a lack of funds or willpower to really maintain the area and make it the tourist destination it could be.  Spanish Town itself is like an old lady who has turned to crime, unable to keep up the façade of being well-mannered any more.  Vendors have taken over the sidewalks, making pedestrians have to compete with vehicles for a through way.  Streets once just wide enough for horse and carriage (or mule and dray) to pass through, now try to accommodate neverending streams of cars.  And yet it could (and should) be the New Orleans of Jamaica, or the St. Augustine, with history on display in museums; a pedestrian only thoroughfare allowing for an appreciation of the many stories that the town holds. 

As we continue to get news of the state of our planet’s health (or rather, ill-health) it appears we need to do better, not only as individuals, but as citizens who demand that governments, corporations and investors change direction.  There are red flags everywhere, with ‘extreme weather’ soon being the norm. If we do not treasure our limited resources, and practice good conservation measures, we will continue to see the destruction of places of beauty, erosion of beaches, and loss of life.

This Friday morning, I hope you can find a way to be involved in the struggle, whether by living more simply, or becoming more informed.  We know we have the power to change things, but only by being active.  We owe it to our children’s children to take care of our one home, Mother Earth.

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love.

Namaste.