Chippy does a good deed in Irish town

He's a machete-wielding middle-ager with a pronounced scar on his right cheek. One of his front teeth is chipped and a well defined birthmark situated above his left eye looks like a tattoo. In another life, he might have thrived as an actor playing ruthless villains in spy movies, but as things are, he's a small-time farmer in Irish Town, St Andrew.

Chippy (a nickname I perhaps unfairly assume he got because of the situation surrounding his teeth) was standing at a dangerous bend along the winding mountainside road. He appeared to have been using the machete to chop at some bushes that were hanging over. I asked him if he thought it was wise to be standing there.

"Mi alright, man," he said. "When di cyar dem ah come mi can hear dem from far. Mi just small up miself and dem pass."

It made sense. The place was so quiet, you could hear little else but birds chirping and the rustle of leaves in the wind. This has always been one of the stand-out features of Irish Town, in my view. A lot of people live there and when there are parties or other gatherings, they can certainly get some excitement going, but on the average day, Irish Town is peaceful. Serene even. You feel far removed from the frenzied activities that define life only a few miles below.

I mentioned to Chippy that it was good that he was attempting to clear the bushes. Hanging over the road as they were, they made things hard for motorists using the already precarious stretch.

"It danger, man. It danger bad," Chippy agreed. I asked him if someone had paid him to do the job. The idea seemed to amuse him.

"No sah! Heh! If it was dat alone, we woulda bury under bush up here," he said.

"Mi just see it from wah day and know seh it need fi clean, so mi just have some time now fi attend to it. Mi going to do this side and over deh so," he added, pointing across the road.

I told Chippy it was mighty big of him to take on the task. He shrugged and started chopping again.

I fielded a few questions from him on various matters. These involved queries on whether I had an extra machete in my car, why I would travel without one, and if I was willing to lend a hand in any way.

That aside, I asked Chippy how things were in Irish Town. It had been a while since my last visit and while the atmosphere and view were as majestic as I remember, there roads appeared bumpier than normal.

"Well is true, yuh know," said Chippy. "Di road dem ah get mash up back. When rain fall, yuh know we always have dat problem. But we nuh mind dat. When we have likkle something den we might haffi just mix some mawta and deal wid it we self."

I told Chippy that was a generous plan. He just shrugged and kept on chopping.

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