Roving With Lalah: Cleaning up after Sandy

Whoosh! Another bus flashed by Lenky and I as we stood near a fallen tree along Mandela Highway in St Catherine. The bus gave rise to a cloud of dust, so Lenky squinted to protect himself.

"Dem won't even tek time drive and dem see people tan up yah!" he said.

Lenky had been standing there watching workers clear fallen trees and other debris. All this was caused by Hurricane Sandy last week. Along the highway, there were uprooted trees, broken billboards and wires hanging from utility poles.

The men and women who were there cleaning up wore blue T-shirts, and some of them used handkerchiefs to cover their noses. Lenky lives at Ferry, which is nearby, and came out to watch the happenings.

"Mi glad how dem come cleaning up," he said, smiling. Now Lenky is missing a front tooth, but he's clearly not self-conscious about it. He is quick to offer a broad smile and loves a good laugh. I asked him how Hurricane Sandy treated him.

"Mi wet up, man!" he exclaimed. Whoosh! Another vehicle sped by. "Mi live wid di old lady, yuh see, so me believe seh she lock up di window dem 'round a back," said Lenky. "Two twos when mi go rounda back fi di tin ah bully beef, mi feel like mi ah step inna water. When mi look, di whole place inna water for di old lady never close di window dem!"

WINDOW LEFT OPEN

I offered my sympathy and asked if there was much damage. "Di rug wet up and di countertop, but just dat," he said. "If di old lady did just lock di window, wi woulda alright."

Now I estimated Lenky to be about 50 years old, so when he spoke of his old lady I figured she would likely be about 70 years old. I told him that he should go easy on his mother since it was just a mistake and it could have happened to anyone.

"Mi madda?" he said. "Ah no mi madda. Mi madda live ah Point Hill. Ah mi old lady, man, mi woman," he said.

I apologised and asked him if the community fared well.

"Likkle flooding, likkle dis and dat," he said, shrugging.

I told him I was surprised things weren't worse there, since so many billboards and trees were destroyed along the highway.

"True wud, true wud," said he, nodding. "But maybe like how so much tree did out yah, ah it really kip off di breeze from we who live like inna di inside part."

MISSING IGLOO

One of the men who had been chopping a fallen tree into small pieces walked over to us. He was sweating heavily .

"Whew! Yes, mi tiyad yah now," he said. Lenky asked him if he was done working for the day.

"Done? Yuh nuh see how much tree lef fi chop?" the man replied.

Lenky remained quiet. The man started looking all around him.

"Ah who tek up mi igloo?" he asked. He looked at me. I shrugged and told him I hadn't seen it. "Smaddy tek up mi igloo," he said, louder this time. None of the other workers seemed to hear him, and if they did, they didn't respond in any way.

The man looked around a bit more and then stormed off.

"Den how him fi puddung him igloo careless and expect fi come back come find it?" said Lenky.

I told him that I had to be going, and he told me I should stop by his community at Ferry the next time I was in the area.

"Yeah, man. Yuh can pass tru and see wah gwaan. Mi will tell di old lady fi look 'bout some food and we just hold a vibe," he said.

I thanked him for the offer and promised to take him up on it soon.

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