Linkage

We had little idea as to what to expect of this place prior to our move here.
My initial assumption was that the work would be challenging and, by extension, rewarding. Our biggest concerns were more on the lines of our level of comfort. Not to say that we needed plush surroundings, upstairs maids and gilded Barcaloungers, but we did not want to live in wattle huts. As it turns out, as close as we get to wattle is the cedar shakes on the roof of the apartment building.

Of course, there were many questions to be asked before we could give up our comfortable middle class exurban existence. 1) Could we drink the water? 2) Is utility distribution regular and consistent? 3) Is food plentiful? 4) Is there a problem with crime? 5) Would there be adequate golfing opportunities?

1) If you like the taste and smell of chlorine, you will love the National Water Commission. Of course, chorine does not kill all of the bugs in a municipal water supply, but it will kill a great deal of them, even more if you up the dosage. Combine the bugs normally occurring in the supply with the deteriorating distribution system and plethora of illegal, unsanitary taps, and the chorine overdose make sense. We imported a filter that mounts on the faucet to rid what we ingest of the residual chorine and the balance of the bugs.

2) When the cruise ships are in, our water pressure is drastically reduced, as we are on the far end of the stub that supplies the port, and the ships refill their potable water supplies while they are here. If there is a threat of an outage (heavy weather or strike), we stockpile. As for electricity, most storms knock out the power for anywhere between a couple of seconds and a couple of hours. We keep candles for this occasion, and an uninterruptible power supply on the Dell. For phone service, quality connections and consistent communications via Cable and Wireless is irregular at best, but this is not an insurmountable situation.

3) There is plenty of food, although I am disturbed by the growing availability and popularity of imported vegetables, as well as processed foods. With their generally lower prices and better quality, I do not wonder why they are so common. What disturbs me is that this is a country that can ill afford to send hard currency off island, especially for basic necessities.

4) There is a problem with crime. Do doubt. We are fairly well removed from it and do our best to keep our distance, so for us, crime is not much of a problem, directly. As per this morning’s Gleaner, however, 722 persons have been murdered (“died violently”) since January. As such, the two million resident here each has about one chance in 2,400 of being murdered this year. Compare this to the less than one in 60,000 chance for the statistically average Iowan, and you might think that this is a comparatively violent place.

5) We were told that there were golf courses on Jamaica, so we brought our clubs.

Unfortunately, they spend most of their days in the closet, huddled in a corner next to the more commonly used tennis rackets, often used scuba gear and recently used and empty Ting bottles.

There is golf here, but not that “twenty bucks a round at the municipal course” type of golf. This is more like “twenty bucks plus tip just for the caddy” type of golf, and you must have a caddy. Break into the dead presidents, as rounds can easily run a hundred or two, plus caddy, beverages, balls, tees, and sundries.

We rarely golf.

Joel and Susan, our downstairs neighbors, are on the links most every weekend, but they have a scheme. First, they have joined the local federation, which allows them to play at the more favorable local rate (we have yet to pursue this membership). Second, I think that they are more fanatical about the game than we.

The wife and I played one weekend on a course at a resort in Runaway Bay. This was in the middle of June, and we had not had much rain for weeks beforehand. The fairways were almost as hard as the cart paths. The greens were brown, and very fast. The wind blew hot.

To our benefit were the caddies, who lugged the bags and gave us pointers and sound club selection advice. We gave up after nine in favor of the unlimited drinks at the hotel, but it was the best half round I ever shot, which is not good by anyone else’s standard but my own.

From there, the clubs were relegated again to their space in the closet until last week, when I gave in to the occasional badgering by the Koreans to join them for their Sunday game. I drove to Tryall bright and early (by Jamaican standards) to try to get a grip on my game and to whack a bucket of balls. The Koreans (Mister Ji, the project manager, and Mister Kim, one of many Kim’s) arrived ready to play, with matching two-toned spikes, unnaturally gaudy and suitably mismatched togs, and expensive clubs in leather bags.

There are rarely people seen on any of the courses I drive by, so I was not at all surprised when we walked onto the first tee and began to hack. No crowded tee times. No pushing the group in front, or from the group behind. Not worrying that you are wasting someone’s time while you scrounge for a ball lost deep in the bush.
But that is just one of the reasons to have a caddy. Not only do they hump the clubs, but they also keep track of where you hit, and find your lost balls. In addition, they will slice open a coconut for you to drink and, at Tryall, they keep your score,.... very well. No “practice swings”, Mulligans, winter rules, or toe wedges for these boys. Fortunately, they cannot count over ten.

Off we tramped then, over hill and dale, past palms and vistas, through sand and water. At least, I made it through the sand and water; the Koreans had some trouble with the creeks and bunkers. I had my usual handicap - I do not play well. The Koreans were in the same boat, despite their efforts in looking like golfers, and we spent much time watching the caddies root around in the bush for lost balls.

I have long thought that there is some ancient Asian tradition of losing, especially when golfing. I have no idea from whence I heard of this tradition, or why it is so, or whether or not the winner or loser is the real winner, but when the round was complete, I discovered that had upheld this great custom, losing quite dramatically.

In retrospect, I would have crushed them both had I shaved a stroke from every hole, and I could have done so, too, except that the caddies were keeping score.

One more thing. On every other hole it seemed, Ji would ask that we move the cup to wherever his mis-hit ball would stop. This was not at all surprising because, as a contractor, he has lost sight of his goal of project completion, and instead works hard to do nothing more beyond the point he is at.

I just thought it was sort of funny. Read More......