Easy-going Junction

I'd never seen a dog that big. It was white with a patch of black around its right eye. Its ears were the size of a grown man's shoes and it was staring at me with hungry eyes.

"Nuh mind him, him nah trouble yuh," said the man behind the fence.

Easy for him to say, I thought. He wasn't the one standing in front of a salivating beast who bore a startling resemblance to famed boxer George Foreman.

Bark! Bark!

I hesitated.

"Go siddung!" the man yelled, flashing his hand.

The dog turned and walked to the back of the house.

"Pull di gate and come," the man said to me. I did as he said and was soon standing next to him inside a spacious yard in Junction, St Elizabeth.

I had been told earlier by a woman in the town centre that I would find at this house, a man with sound knowledge of, and deep roots in Junction.

I introduced myself to the man and told him I was directed to consult him for information on the community.

"Oh, ah nuh really me, yuh know. Boss nuh deh yah now. Him gone town gone look 'bout embassy business," said the man. He was tall, slender and had hairy ears. I asked him what he was doing.

"Boss lef mi fi gwaan feed di dog dem and rake up di yard," he said. I asked the man, who told me to call him 'Chaplain', if he was from Junction.

"No sah," he said. "Mi live up ah Site, but mi spend nuff time here."

I was about to ask him something else, when he cut me off.

"But mi caan talk to yuh now. Boss is a ignorant man and if him come back and di leaf dem nuh rake up, ah worries."

He reached for a rake that was leaned against an ackee tree and immediately went to work.

I bid him farewell and let myself out, careful to keep a keen eye on the dog, who was now resting on some steps in front of the house.

Not much happening

I headed back into the town centre to see what was happening. It wasn't a particularly busy day there. Vendors were out. Taxis and buses were moving around and pedestrians were going about their business. But there was no hurry in anyone's steps. No apparent urgency to get anything done.

I spotted a man leaning against an iron post. There was a table with watermelons and a huge knife in front of him. I said hello.

"Mannas and respect," he said.

I asked him the price of the melon and bought a piece from him.

Between bites, I asked him how business was going.

"Nuh too good, yuh know," he said.

"One time tings was better, but now God bless whatever yuh can meck."

I asked him if he bought the melons or grew them himself.

"Mi grow dem, man," he said. "Mi have one likkle farm and mi do mi own likkle growings. Mi grow pepper and scallion too," he said.

"Only melon mi selling now, though. Nothing else nuh ready yet."

A woman sitting on a bench nearby called out.

"Mi have peppa! How much yuh want?" she said. She was a middle-aged woman with a scarf on her head.

"Him not buying no pepper from yuh!" the man said. "All di while yuh do it. Mi only telling him seh mi don't have none."

"Den meck yuh ah tell him bout peppa if him never ask bout none?" the woman retorted.

The man hissed. I shrugged. The woman flashed us both off.

After a few moments of silence, I said to the man that maybe I should go.

"Cho, eat yuh melon," he said.

He asked me what I thought of the town. I told him it was rather nice.

"Yeah it nuh too bad. It only want likkle more life into it. Sometimes tings get slow up bad. Otherwise from dat though, Junction alright," he said.

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