Meeting Uncle Trevor in Middleton

Well, Uncle Trevor is certainly a chatty fellow. Never mind the moniker, it was my first time meeting him.

I had been walking around in Middleton, a community high in the hills of rural St Andrew (near Newcastle), when the short, dreadlocked man stepped out of a small roadside shop on which the words 'The Bubbles Bar and Grocery' were painted.

"Welcome, man," he said. I walked up to him. "Welcome to the place. Yuh free to walk around and everything. Yuh welcome, man," he said. That's when he told me everyone called him Uncle Trevor.

It was a chilly afternoon and it was a bit foggy. Uncle Trevor was wearing a cap and had a black plastic bag in his hand. I asked him if he was going shopping at the grocery store. "Well, I jus' looking a few things. Is soon dinner time, so I looking some likkle dis and dat," he said with a smile.

He took off his cap and used it to cover his face. Then he let out a thunderous sneeze. "Clachoy!" It was a deafening blow.

"Manners," he said. "Place ah get cowl." I asked Uncle Trevor if he lived in Middleton.

"Yes man," he said, his eyes wide. "I really come from St Elizabeth, still. Malvern is where I born. I move come up here long time though," he said, putting the cap back on his head. I asked him why he had moved from Malvern to Middleton. "Well, is my mother was really living up here, yuh know. She live up here and send for me suh mi come stay up here."

Uncle Trevor said that his mother passed away some time ago, and even though he had the option of going back to St Elizabeth, he opted not to. It wasn't even a hard decision for him to make.

"No man," he said. "Middleton is my home now. Up here just cool and quiet. St Bess too hot for me now. Mi alright right here," he said. Uncle Trevor walked over to a wall beside the bar and pointed in front of him. "See my house there yuh know. The house wid the zinc roof. Is my place dat," he said. I could see the house. It was small and the zinc glistened in what little sunlight there was.

A man wearing a blue shirt and very white trousers was on his way up the hill. He bent forward as he climbed. Uncle Trevor spotted him in the distance. "Look yah nuh, I gone leave yuh. I nuh inna di one bag ah talking today. I have food fi go look 'bout," he said. Uncle Trevor then shook my hand and headed up the hill.

The man in the blue shirt walked right up to me. "Hello please!" he said, a lot louder than I was expecting. "I see you from down the hill and I don't know you, so I come to see what is the situation," he said. The man had a crooked nose and a front tooth that didn't altogether disappear behind his lips when his mouth was closed. He told me he was a farmer and had spent all that morning working on his crops.

"I grow likkle coffee and likkle pepper. Nothing big," he said.

"I really work at a factory in town but mi trying to start up a likkle ting for mi self."

I explained to the man, who told me to call him Jagga, that I liked the atmosphere in Middleton and was actually hesitant about leaving. "Come back anytime, man!" he exclaimed. "Wi tiad ah di same people everyday so. Come back, come visit again. And bring some woman wid yuh to," he said.

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