Sunsets, Rum, Sand and Gizzadas 97 Days in Negril

[Momthor3]

only nice spider is a dead spider.....

[Beebeluv]

i often get wolf spiders in my room and im terrified... so much so that the only way ill kill it is with an airsoft gun

[Kahuna3]

I saw a poster advertising that Beanie Man will be in concert at Tamboo on Feb 1st.
Coincidentally, I’ll be leaving my quarters in Redground and heading down to the beach on that day. As well, one of my buddies will be arriving then, so I think we’re good for the Beanie Man concert. Now I just have to prepare myself to stay up until 3 am that night

February 1st is right around the time that my beach friends, thirteen in all, begin to show up.
Among them are a group of buddies from Shrunken Bullocks (Da Boyz). We’ve been meeting on the beach for seven or eight years now, I’ve lost track.

This year we are down by one alumni (Likkle Jimmy) but up one newbie, so it will be a pretty good crew. Their beach names are;
- Shrek, or Big Daddy or B.D.S for Big Baddy Shrek,
- Doc (I’m not a gynecologist, but I’ll take a look),
- Baby Face, just because,
- Cappy, used to be his rank as a fireman, now an lieutenant,
- JT, of no-shirt fame,
- Bob, a newbie, beach name yet to be determined,
- RollyMon (c’est moi, a.k.a Kahuna, a.k.a SpongeBob)

Collectively we refer to ourselves as The Crazy *******s. The Crazy *******s will be aimlessly roaming the beach from Feb 3 – 10. There should be some good stories that come out of that week and I may even be able to post some of them here, thoroughly sanitized, of course.

This afternoon I’m heading down to Couples to meet with a guy that I bike with back home. Yaa Hoo!! Da beach! (but it looks like rain - again)

Likkle more.

A strip club and a jerk fest. Hmmmmm . . .


If I was to post a letter from here today, it will get to Canada in about two months.


It's a jungle out there.

[Jamadian]

Do you order a liver transplant after Feb 10th :-)

[Kahuna3]

Gaza vs. Gully

I spent yesterday afternoon on the beach at Couples Swept Away visiting with one of my riding buddies from back home and his GF. The sea was calming and this morning it looks like the water is back to `Negril standard`- flat calm. Nice.

I`ve managed to convince them to leave the compound, so we`re going on the Pub Crawl tomorrow. Looking forward to it. I`ll report, of course.

Now, here`s something for those of you who are interested in Jamaican culture. See the photos below.






See the ‘GULLY’ and ‘GAZA’ painted on the walls? This is just down the road from the place in Redground. Maybe somebody named Gully painted his name on the wall? That’s what I thought, and I really didn’t think anything of it; until I was talking with Tanya and we landed on the subject of dance hall music. In the course of the discussion the story of the infamous GAZA v. GULLY Dancehall DJ wars came out. Specifically; Gaza (DJ Vybz Kartel) versus Gully (DJ Mavado).

Tanya related the story to me, from her perspective as a young person who was in the midst of the troubles. She was living in Kingston at the time, which was ground zero for the street violence and mob riots that resulted from the dance hall DJ conflict; so she was right in the middle of it all. She related the story to me. I’m fascinated by the rich cultural tapestry that is Jamaica, so I was totally spellbound.

Briefly, this is my understanding of what happened; Back in 2008, Gaza (Kartel) and Gully (Mavado) arrived on the Jamaican DJ scene at roughly the same time. They immediately engaged in a bitter competition to seize primacy, to become the top-dog Jamaican DJ king. The contest was waged largely through the music they released; they took vicious shots at each other and friends and family in their lyrics.

Naturally, Jamaican dancehall fans began to take sides, kind of like it was for Beannie Man vs. Bounty Killer. Except this time it got violent. Tanya said that Kingston and much of the country was divided into Gaza or Gully camps. It was unsafe for a Gaza supporter to go into a Gully neighbourhood at the risk of being severely injured or even killed. It was literally sectarian violence based solely on which of the two DJs you supported. Captivating stuff. At one point, in an attempt to quell the spreading violence, Gaza and Gully met with the Prime Minister in a very public meeting and called a truce.

Kartel got into typical gangsta trouble and was arrested and jailed on two counts of murder. He got off on the first one but is still in a Kingston jail on the second count. The trial is currently ongoing and is the talk of the nation – a true to life soap opera. Even though he`s incarcerated, Kartel still produces music, and apparently he’s the don-dadda in the big house.

Movado has decamped and gone to America.
The Gaza – Gully war is over.

Check out further info at:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vybz_Ka...ud_with_Mavado

[jamaicamarylance]

OK - no more insect photos - unless I see a really nice one.
Where did you run into a brown recluse?

Here in Ontario we we're camping. I do not go pee in da woods anymore. Peoples thought I was crazy and say this spider is Not here in Ontario. A few days later near where we camp someone took a pic of this nasty spider. Now I watch spiders come out at night dangling from the trees while sitting around the campfire.

No this spider is not like the wolf spider.

[Flipadelphia26]

Fascinating Kahuna. Thanks.

[kaycee]

It may be over between kartel and mavado but elsewhere its not. Some artists still call out gaza or gully in their music.

[Momthor3]

Once again thanks for the pictures and the history. A little more current than that in The Dead Yard my current read.......

[Kahuna3]

The Funeral Procession

Even though we talk a couple of times a day on the phone and Skype, I was getting a bit bored and lonely without Bea here. But I’m OK now because a young, slim good looking Jamaican female has moved in with me. So, I’m good. Here’s a photo of her.

What do you think I should call her?



This afternoon I’m off on the One Love pub crawl with my buddy and his GF. It’s a bit cool today and the water has churned up again, so it will be a good day for a crawl.


I was walking the beach road and saw a funeral procession approaching. Rather, I heard it approaching. It was led by a big flatbed truck, headlights on, chock full with musicians on the back, playing music amplified to an ear-splitting volume. Following in an unorganized pack was a large squadron of motorbikes, maybe fifty or so, all of them with the headlights on. I watched it approach. It was not moving along at a stately pace, like funeral processions back home, rather it was barreling along at a good rate; some would say fast.

The procession roared by, like a huge wave travelling down the road. Sound from the flatbed, fury from the horde of bikes. The bike riders were all young men. Some bikes had young female passengers on the rear. In the middle of the pack one of the bikes was rigged with a small flat trailer. Tied on top of the trailer was a wrecked motor-bike, its front wheel jutting heavenward. This, I assume, was the instrument of demise for the departed soul – a young man I assume. Maybe he was to be buried with his wrecked bike. Maybe I have a macabre imagination.

Then it was travelling away from me. There were some cars in trail as well, but it was difficult to say if they were part of the procession of just speeding along behind the procession to take advantage of its momentum.

The whole procession rounded a bend in the road, the music faded in the distance. And it was over.



I caught these birds at the cement pier at the mouth of the South Negril river. They were watching a fisherman clean a bucket full of small reef fish.