Weathering the supermarket storm

A possible cataclysmic weather system was headed our way last week, carrying with it the threat of unspeakable rain-related horror. Of course, in the end, the storm passed with little more than a whimper, but as hourly radio bulletins urged Jamaicans to prepare, crowds flocked corporate area shops to ensure they had all they needed to weather the storm.

It was between the aisles of a popular St Andrew supermarket that a raging battle for bread was on. It was also between these aisles that I became the unwilling mediator in an argument between two angry old men.

"Tell him! Tell him seh him nuh fi do it!" yelled the shorter of the two. He was wearing a faded baseball cap and spectacles. The other fellow seemed a bit older and was sporting short pants and red, knee-high socks.

"Well, I dont..." I started to say, not really wanting to get involved.

"Tell him!" the man yelled again.

As far as I could tell, the argument started when the man in the short pants picked up three loaves of bread. This didn't sit well with the fellow in the spectacles who thought it unfair for one person to purchase all of three loaves when supply was dwindling quickly.

"It not right! Look, is only few bread leave on the shelf! You must leave some for other people!" the glasses-wearer said.

The man in the short pants was annoyed. "Den why yuh business wid me and mi bread? Mi ask yuh fi pay fi dem?" he said before turning to me.

"Yuh see what I saying?" he said.

I shrugged, looking around for someone, anyone to take my place in this unfolding debacle. I still can't figure out how the three of us ended up all alone in that section on a day the supermarket was so crowded.

"Well, I mean, maybe he has a big family," I said, half-heartedly.

"Thank you!" yelled the man with the three loaves of bread.

The other man's face got red.

"Wah? Family big? How much bread one family can eat so? It is a disgrace, and that is what is wrong wid this country," he said.

Lucky for me, a woman pulling the arm of a young boy walked up just then.

"Di bread dem soon done. Everybody buying bread," she said, mostly to herself.

The two men then turned to her, happy to go over the whole story from the beginning. This gave me just enough time to slip away.

Near the shelves stacked with beer and other such beverages, I met up with a stout man who called himself Jacko. Now Jacko was all too eager to explain to me that he believed the rush that was on for supplies was unwarranted.

"All dem ah run up and down, nuh storm nah come. Mi ongle deh yah fi get bout six beer so if mi workplace lock down me and mi friend dem can gwaan drink two beer," he said, smiling.

People were bumping into us as they made their way around. It was getting too cramped for my liking, so I bid Jacko happy drinking and headed over to the canned goods aisle.

Sausage outfit

Someone dressed in a giant sausage outfit, I suppose a mascot for a sausage company, was being terrorised by a rowdy group of young boys. They were taking turns kicking him and running away. Meanwhile, a woman standing nearby was yelling at them to "cut it out".

A sleepy-looking and quite pregnant supermarket employee was walking by. She stopped to flash a stern look in the direction of the boys who, surprisingly, quickly sobered up and walked away.

She came over to me. "Can I help you?" she asked, her eyes droopy. I told her I was fine but asked her how she was handling what must have been an increased workload in light of the crowds.

"Well, it happen almost every year yuh know," she said.

"When time storm or hurricane ah come, we know what is going to happen, so we just prepare and ting. Nuh say mi say so still, because is my workplace, but no storm nah come. Me know when storm is coming fi true, and meck mi tell yuh, no storm not coming," she said.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com

Weathering the supermarket storm

Feedback

The following are some of the feedback letters received from readers of last week's edition of Roving with Lalah.

Dear Robert,

I have been to Jamaica on a few visits and each time I have gone to Port Maria. I agree it is a beautiful town.

- Wanda

Dear Robert,

Loved your article! I'm not from Port Maria but have been there several times. Yes, it is beautiful.

- Ejovi1

Dear Robert,

I really enjoyed reading this article! I am from St Mary and I lived in Port Maria for years. I particularly loved going around to "Pagi" to enjoy the sea breeze, relax and read a book. Yes, Port Maria is quaint. It has the typical country laid back feeling. Port Maria is truly a gem - a diamond in the rough. All she needs is a little investment and she would outshine them all.

- St Marian

Dear Robert,

I really enjoy reading about your excursions across the island. Most of all, I enjoy reading about your encounters with the people. Having left Jamaica a while back, your encounters have brought back the good feelings of the country and its people. I have always encouraged visitors to experience the people and not make their stay at the all-inclusive hotels be their only experience of Jamaica. We may be poor, but we know how to live life to the fullest.

- George