As we walk out Chris leaves his buddy and walks us down to the falls. “Good friend,” he says, “Long time since we see each other, Lotta catching up to do.” He’s kind of excited. We head down a road from the parking lot that is in REALLY bad shape. “I wouldn’t bring your car down this either,” I say to Chris. “No, no,” says Chris. As we near the bottom we see a car loading up with some older tourists. We step to the side of the sort of road as they head up. We hear a couple of metal on rock scrapes as it continues up and shoot each other some funny looks.
If I’m not down here when you’re done, I’ll be up with my friend,” says Chris. “Yah, mon,” I say, knowing exactly where he’ll be. We meet a guide in the first building we go to, he says to go pay over at the bar and he’ll meet us there. As we walk over a few of the guides and vendors mill around us. I’m telling Sweetie Pie a few of the things I know about the place from reports here. There’s a discussion in the bar in Patois about who is going to be our guide. One guy’s not sure he wants to take us. He already knows the place, he’s gonna want to be the guide, he’s gonna tell her everything, ain’t gonna be nothing for me. When our guide comes and introduces himself I’m determined to keep my mouth shut and only follow his lead unless I have a question. This is not particularly natural or easy for me but I think I do an OK job.
We change into suits and as I’m waiting for Sweetie Pie I talk to Dave, our guide, about taking pictures for us. I hand him some money and mention I’ve seen some great pictures from here. In the middle of this conversation another young man has joined us and Dave kind of looks at him. Eneil introduces himself and says he is a photographer for the falls. $20 to provide us with a CD of photos of our visit. “This is how we make a living,” he says. Dave looks at him and me and nods. I agree to the photo deal and tell Dave to keep the money.
We head out with an entourage. Eneil is walking with us most of the time but occasionally disappears behind us or trots off in front of us. Dave is leading and talking and every so often saying, “Stop there,” and taking a picture on my iPhone. We stop at a pile of drying root stock on a hillside. “Do you know what this is?” he asks as he breaks a small root in two and passes it under our noses. I smell Jamaican curry. “Turmeric!” Sweetie Pie exclaims. “Yes, exactly,” says Dave. “Sweetie Pie loves this kind of stuff,” I say, “She’s an excellent cook.” “Can I taste it?” Sweetie Pie asks. “No, no!” replies Dave, “Your tongue and mouth and teeth will all be stained yellow.” We talk about how the turmeric is harvested, “It just grows wild here,” and have a discussion about property rights and whether they operate on the basis of the commons. They sort of do but it is a very Jamaican interpretation. “If you know that it’s somebody’s you don’t take it, if it’s not then you take what you need.”
