Pigs, fog and apples in Guava Gap

Pigs are the way to go for 2012. It is, of course, important that I provide some context here. At a place called Guava Gap in the hills of St Andrew, two men and a woman were standing near a church discussing the economic prospects for the year. It was unanimously agreed that the wise man's money would be invested in swine and all things related.

"Yeah man, if mi get some money now mi buy some pig," said a short man wearing a reflective vest and a cap. He had restless eyes and carried a machete. The woman standing next to him had a pleasant face and wore a tattered cap. The other man seemed tired and rubbed his chin, apparently in deep concentration.

I introduced myself to the trio and asked if any of them had ever owned pigs before. It was the vest-wearer who spoke up.

"Mi know bout pig, man. Mi can do anything," he said.

I looked across the road at a church. The chin-rubber saw me looking.

"It lock up yah now but if yuh want yuh can go inside," he said. Standing just outside the church was a square-headed man smoking a cigarette. I said goodbye to the three and walked over to the smoker.

A day off

Unfortunately for me, the man blew a puff of smoke just as I arrived in front of him. Fanning the smoke away, I said hello. The man told me to call him 'Chigga' and that he was waiting on a taxi to take him to Kingston. He was holding a black plastic bag in which I could clearly see the top of a white and red stuffed animal.

"One of mi woman dem live near wharf. She call mi and seh mi can come check har today, so mi call di boss and tell him seh mi have bad stomach," said Chigger. He seemed quite pleased with himself. I asked him what he did for a living.

"Mi do mason work and sometime mi fool round some plumbing," he said.

Toot! Toot! A grey car with dark, tinted windows came speeding down the hill. Chigger waved his hand wildly and the car came to a screeching halt right in front of us.

"More time!" he said, and jumped into the back of the vehicle. He was careful to hold the bag high to ensure it didn't get squashed. The driver tooted the horn again and looked at me. Chigger spoke up. "No, him nah go nowhere. Is pure question him ah ask." With that, the car and its passengers sped off.

I looked up the hill and saw two women near a stall made of zinc and wood. One was busy sweeping while the other leaned on a tree. I walked over to meet them.

"Hello please," said the woman leaning on the tree. The woman with the broom stopped sweeping and looked up at me.

Why the name?

I glanced at the stall. It was stocked with apples, oranges, snacks, and sweets. I regarded a large red apple with eager anticipation and inquired of its cost. Once told, I handed the money to the woman with the broom and bit into the fruit. I was not disappointed.

The women, both residents of Guava Gap, told me that the community was not very big.

"Dat's why dem call it Gap. If yuh go likkle further up di hill yuh reach different place," said the woman leaning on the tree.

I told them of my encounter with Chigger and his stated intentions for the day. The women would go on to explain to me that Chigger, though capable of hard work, had a reputation of being in possession of abbreviated intelligence and so was prone to making bad decisions, like abandoning work to rendezvous with a lady friend.

"But him can gwaan," said the woman with the broom. "Him soon meet fi him Waterloo."

A thick fog was setting in. I asked the women if this was normal.

"Only like today when the rain fall early. Most days when yuh come here like midday, everything clear, but because rain fall early today yuh will find that the fog get really bad," said the woman next to the tree.

Seeing my car parked in the distance slowly disappearing in the thick, white fog, I decided it was time to go. I said goodbye to the women. They both responded the same way.

"Alright, yuh tek care. Drive good!"

See video of Guava Gap tomorrow at www.jamaica-gleaner.com/videos.

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