Meeting & greeting in Golden Hill

He wasn't the most talkative fellow I'd ever met, but at least he was friendly. Standing near a corner on a winding roadway in a place called Golden Hill in rural St Andrew, I heard a clinking noise. It sounded like someone had knocked over a bucket. I looked behind me. A man wearing an orange merino tucked into a pair of blue jeans trousers was standing in front of a shop with a zinc roof. He had his hands by his sides and was staring right at me. I gave a wave.

"How yuh do?" he said. I walked over to him. The man had a beard and was blinking rather quickly.

I introduced myself and asked him his name. "Everybody call mi Gregory," he said, smiling. I told Gregory that I had been in Golden Hill for about an hour and was really enjoying the view of the mountains.

"True, man. Dem big," he said.

Silence.

I looked inside the shop behind him. There was nobody there. I asked him if he was going to buy something. "No man, mi was just passing through," he replied.

Gregory told me that he lived nearby and often came up to the shop to see what was happening.

"Is long time mi live here, yuh know. About 15 years," Gregory said.

I asked him about the community.

"Golden Hill have nuff people yuh know. But dem live dung inna di valley part. Yuh cyaa stay 'ere and si dem," he said. I told him that, in that case, I would have to go check out the valley.

"No sah," he said, waving his hand. "Everybody gone ah work or bush."

I asked Gregory if he liked it in Golden Hill.

"Yeah, yuh know. It alright. Jus' one problem mi have," he said, furrowing his brow.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Mi get some bad headache sometime," he said. "When dat happ'n, mi don't know what can take place. Mi will do all manner of tings and don't even memba."

I looked him over, my right eyebrow raised.

"But is so it go sometime. Yuh jus' have to keep on going," he said. I agreed with him and told him I was going to check out the rest of the community.

Within a minute, I was several feet away. There was a table set up by the side of the road and bottles of beer and water were neatly arranged on top of it. A short man wearing a grey shirt with a pair of white trousers came running out of a small, wooden house across the road.

"Hello please," he said. I decided to partake of the bottled water and, after asking the price and handing the man some money, I took a sip from the bottle.

"Is firs' mi seeing yuh," the man said. I explained that it was my first time in Golden Hill and I was just there to see what life was like in the community.

"Oh. Is a small community," said the man. "Yuh pass a milepost when yuh was coming 'ere and if yuh walk down likkle more, yuh si di next one. Afta dat, is a different place yuh reach."

He was going to say something else, but a shout from the house across the road cut him off.

"Johnny bwoy!"

It was a woman's voice. The man hissed.

"Oy!" he shouted back, looking annoyed.

"How yuh mean fi go weh an lef di pail ah full? Wah happ'n when it full up? Is tek yuh head mus' tek yuh," the woman yelled.

The man looked at me, then at the house. "Ah coming to move it," he said. The woman went silent.

"Ah gone leave yuh, bredda," he said to me, before hobbling over to the house.

I walked a bit further up the road where I met Miss Janice, a delightfully pudgy older woman with a gap between her two front teeth. Miss Janice wore a pair of spectacles with a large crack in the right lens. She appeared not to mind.

"Mi like meeting new people like you," she said. "Every day yuh get up and all yuh si ah di same old people ah stare inna yuh mawning. Mi caan badda wid it," she said.

I asked Miss Janice if she had lived in Golden Hill a long time.

"Mi don't live here, yuh know. Mi live up di hill, but mi come down here sometime fi look fi some people who beknowing to mi," she said.

I asked her if she liked the community.

She look at the ground, then up at the sky. She was quiet for a moment, then said: "Cho, it can gwaan. Just as cheap. Nuh betta nuh deh."

Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com

FEEDBACK

The following is feedback to last week's Roving with Lalah.

Lalah,
good advice from Charlie. I admire your composure in the wake of his
comment about mashing up one's tripe. For me, that would have been the
end of the walk, as I would have been rolling on the ground with
laughter. Keep the stories coming, they do my 'tripe' good. Thanks!

- Charles

It is always a pleasure to read about Robert's different experiences.

- Sojorop

Robert, keep on giving us many more interesting stories which will stand the test of time.

- Everton

Robert,
a better title for this week's article would have been 'Lalah and
88-year-old Roadrunner!' You make my Tuesdays, you really do! Keep it
up.

- Mmckinson

This story about Charlie is an
inspiration for me. Robert, as of tomorrow morning, I am going to
commence a new life. This article is just what the doctor ordered.
Thanks Robert, and Maas Charlie, for your motivation.

- Mccormacklindel

Thanks for the laughs, Lalah. Your story has motivated me to leave the computer right now and hit the tracks.

- Missing home