Katani's Jamaican Holiday
Page 5
As we walked in, Olivia pointed out Selvin’s house—a small cottage over on the side. “Aunt Faith used to live here too, until my mom died, then she came to live with us,” Olivia told me.
“Where’s Selvin’s family?” I whispered to Olivia as soon as I was sure he couldn’t hear. I had been wondering about this for some time.
“His wife and son migrated to England to be with her family after they divorced,” she whispered back. “He save up so his son can come here once a year.”
“How come they got divorced?” I asked, even though I knew it wasn’t any of my business. But I really liked Selvin and wanted to know.
“His wife just miss her mother and family too much. Selvin tried to live in England, but he said there was never any sun and the people didn’t smile too much, so him come back to Jamaica to help Aunt Faith and my father.”
As we entered the bakery through the front room, I saw that it was a kind of office with two desks—and a computer! I couldn’t wait to ask permission to use it to send a message to the BSG. They must be wondering what had happened to me. They would never believe that I had been in Jamaica for a whole day and I still hadn’t been swimming! I didn’t think the horseback riding counted. But first I wanted to see if I could grab a slice of Bliss. The sweet smell of banana was driving me wild.
When we entered the oven section of the bakery, I let out a huge hoot. Grandma Ruby was covered in flour dust, from the plastic cap on her head to her plastic overshoes. Even her eyebrows looked floury. Lucky I brought my camera—this memory was a keeper. Everybody at home was going to love seeing Grandma Ruby as the Baker Lady of Jamaica.
“I’ll clean up later,” she joked when she saw me gaping at her. “A bag of flour burst all over me.” Then she started laughing. Soon everybody in the bakery joined in. If only the kids at Abigail Adams Junior High could see their principal now.
“Whew!” she exclaimed. “What a morning! It’s going to be short.” She nodded to Selvin. “We lost some time cleaning up the flour disaster.”
Grandma Ruby made a mistake?! She caught my surprised look. “Yes, Katani, your grandmother is capable of messing up…literally messing up,” she said, and she blew some flour off her shirt.
“No problem,” Selvin said with a smile. He was a very easygoing person. “I’ll just deliver to the customers we really can’t afford to lose. No worry,” he added. “It will get easier.”
Grandma Ruby frowned, and I couldn’t tell whether it was because she wasn’t sure it would get easier, or because she thought she should have gotten it right from the beginning. That was probably it, since she was a perfectionist. And I was just like her. I hated making mistakes too. I went over and gave her a hug because I know that’s what she would have done for me. She leaned her head on my shoulder and hugged me back. It was then that I realized for the first time that I was almost as tall as she was. Wow, I must have grown this year without even knowing it.
Two women helped wrap the breads and put them in boxes that Selvin then loaded inside the back of the van onto racks. Each box held about ten loaves. I guessed there were two hundred loaves in all. That seemed like a lot, but I wasn’t quite sure.
Then Grandma Ruby introduced me to her helpers. One was Miss Gloria, and the other, a much younger woman, was called Precious. They nodded at us and continued their work. Miss Gloria kept tapping her watch. She obviously wasn’t interested in any idle chitchat. “Precious, dem customers need their Bliss. We got to get a move on.” It was clear that people were very serious about business in Jamaica.
I asked permission to use the computer to send a message to the BSG, and Grandma Ruby said it was fine. It took a while for Olivia to make the dial-up connection, so it had to be a very short note because Selvin was ready to leave.
To: Maeve, Isabel, Avery, Charlotte
From: Katani
Hi, BSG,
Just getting a chance at the computer. Reached Jamaica safely. Going to beach soon with my cousin Olivia, nearly same age as us. Just saying hi to let u know I’m OK. So much to tell u! Met an aristocratic “bumptious” goat who doesn’t like me. LOL. Sorry, Maeve, no cute boys yet. More later.
—Kgirl
A Bit of Jamaica-style Shopping
We soon arrived in Ochi, which is what Jamaicans call the town of Ocho Rios. While Selvin delivered Banana Bliss to the distribution depot, Olivia and I went to the gas station to get a soda to go with our warm slices of Bliss that Precious had snuck to us before we left. The place was super busy, with small and large tour buses and taxis and private cars zigzagging everywhere. There was even a cruise ship in the port, one so big it looked like a gigantic apartment building floating in the water. “Olivia,” I said, sighing, “doesn’t that ship look so glamorous? Can’t you just imagine all the beautiful people dressed up in fancy dresses and dinner jackets?”
“Girl”—Olivia looked at me like I was crazy—“the sun has gone to your head.”
“Maybe.” I laughed. I realized that I was beginning to sound like Maeve, who loved all things romantic and fancy.
Suddenly, Olivia spied two of her school friends and called them over. They skipped across the street, dodging cars and taxis, and she introduced us. We chatted for a little while—I mostly listened, because they were talking in patois so fast I couldn’t keep up. Olivia told them I would be coming to their school on Monday. As they were leaving, they reminded her about the green blouse for her costume.
“Help!” she exclaimed. “I completely forgot. And Aunt Faith is not there to make it for me. What am I gonna do?”
If I’d had a sewing machine, Grandma Ruby and I could have helped her in a second. But not having a solution, I shrugged.
“I’m going to have to buy one today,” she decided. Happy day! That meant I would get a chance to go into the stores. I couldn’t wait to get a look at the local styles.
We went looking for Selvin, who gave her some money and told her to be as quick as possible. We crossed the road, which was a death-defying exercise because there was no pedestrian crossing and traffic was wild—cars honking and lots of people pulling out in front of one another. A couple of people yelled at us, but Olivia just grabbed my hand and zigzagged us across the road. Good thing Grandma Ruby wasn’t around for this scene. I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the other curb.
As we ducked in and out of shops I pulled out my Island Inspiration notebook and started taking notes.
Some of the stores carried large pieces of cloth that could be used as headwraps. Everything was brightly colored, lots of green and red and purple and yellow flowers and birds, and these amazing abstract designs on the materials. I saw a piece of cloth in the black, green, and gold colors of the flag and thought it would make a fabulous skirt.
“It hopeless to try to find anything here!” Olivia finally declared. “I’ll ask Selvin to stop at one of the little towns on the way.”
Selvin wasn’t happy about stopping before he started his other deliveries, but he was sympathetic about Olivia’s problem, so in the next town we stopped in a side street.
On the sidewalk was a man dressed all in white. “He’s a Rastafarian,” Olivia whispered when she saw me staring. His head was wrapped in a high turban, to hold his dreadlocks, I supposed. His loose, long-sleeved shirt hung to below his knees, like a short gown. His pants were baggy, and he wore sandals. His beard was thin and kind of ragged. Around his neck, hanging to waist length, was a sash to die for. It was intricately woven in the red, yellow, and green Rasta colors, with a shiny gold border ending in a fringe, which glistened softly when the sunlight caught it. He looked very regal, like someone from another time.
“Broom, Princess?” he asked in a very polite voice as I paused to look at him. “Jah-Jah order this one specially fi you.” He held out a roughly made straw broom.
“No thanks,” Olivia replied as she took my arm and drew me away.
“Respect,” he replied in a resigned tone.
“He�
�s a bobo dread,” she whispered. “They live in the hills and make and sell the best brooms on the island, but we already have enough brooms.”
Olivia was getting anxious to find her shirt so we headed into another store. Finally she found the almost perfect shirt in the perfect color green. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but she said that if the collar were cut off and the neckline lowered, it would work.
“Olivia,” I told her, “I can def fix this for you. A little needle and thread and you’ll have a completely new shirt.” I do a ton of sewing at home, so I wasn’t too worried about the job.
The Patty Wagon
Selvin had bought us something called “patties” and fruit drinks before we started our delivery rounds. I was practically drooling from the yummy smell. He had bought three beef patties—two for himself and one for me to taste—as well as three callaloo patties, two for Olivia and one for me. Callaloo is like spinach with smaller leaves. Earlier they had showed me some in a basket that a woman on the sidewalk was selling.
My first taste of a Jamaican patty! Scrumptious! A patty looks like a half-moon-shaped turnover, but the crust isn’t as flaky as a turnover’s, and it’s filled with a spicy meat or vegetable stew. Selvin explained that at first you could only get beef patties, but now they were made with a variety of meat fillings and different vegetables. A patty and a drink was a regular lunch for many Jamaicans, he explained.
“You should come to American and open up a Jamaican patty factory!” I told Selvin in between bites. “You’d make a fortune.”
Selvin smiled but answered emphatically, “Jamaica is the place for me. Why would I want to be cold?” He had a point.
We delivered boxes of Banana Bliss to a few of the luxury hotels along the coast. It was fun carrying the trays into the fancy resorts. Some of them had little carts you could ride around in. I wished I could just run down to the beach and stay, but Selvin said I should be patient. “That’s a lot to ask, Selvin, when you have come all the way from Boston, where it is so freezing cold, icicles grow off your nose!” I giggled.
Finally we arrived at a big hotel where Selvin said he usually got a large order. When we drove into the delivery area, Olivia and I couldn’t believe our eyes. There was a Mr. Biggs Better Banana Bread van unloading on the ramp!
“Uh-oh!” Selvin exclaimed. “Trouble!”
Olivia and I quickly got out of the van and followed Selvin. Two men in elaborate chef’s hats were carrying trays of banana bread into the kitchen area. They looked very dramatic, as if they were in a play or something, I had to admit, the way they presented themselves was very impressive. Suddenly, I felt a major stab of concern for Nana’s Banana Bliss. Mr. Biggs’s group was pretty fancy.
“What’s this?’ Selvin asked the man who was receiving the bread.
“Hey, Selvin!” the man exclaimed. He was genuinely surprised to see Selvin. “We heard that Faith was sick and the business closed. No more Banana Bliss.”
“Who could tell you that, Mr P?” Selvin asked.
Mr. P looked around embarrassed. He really didn’t have to answer. It was obvious.
“So, you dealing with Mr. Biggs now?”
“Well, he offered us free samples, and we’re trying it.”
Aunt Faith and Grandma were going to be devastated. I could just imagine their faces.
“Okay,” Selvin retorted. “Can’t fight free samples. But I’m telling you, you’ll be sorry. Your guests are going to notice the difference.”
“Ah, well”—he turned to us—“they’ll learn. No better-tasting thing than Banana Bliss.” He winked at Olivia and me. “Come on, girls. I arranged with my friend for you to take a swim with the dolphins. Let me take you over to the main entrance. I’ll try to get the rest of these breads sold to some other places while you have some fun. I should be back in about an hour or so. All right?”
“Hold up. Did he just say dolphins?!” I exclaimed.
“Yes!” Olivia said happily.
The BSG would never believe this.
CHAPTER 7
Dancing with the Dolphins
To: Maeve, Isabel, Avery, Charlotte
From: Katani
Subject: Dolphins!!!!
OK, BSG—I am sending this from one of the most beautiful resorts in all of the Caribbean. My cousin Selvin’s friend works here and she said I could use her computer to send an e-mail—nice lady. Yes! Well, get ready for this: I just met up with some dolphins. Yup, the Kgirl became a regular nature girl. It was like I was in that old movie we liked—the one about the dolphins that talked. You remember, Maeve? From the moment I sat in the golf cart that took us down to the beach, it was like there was someone saying, “Roll camera!” I was the star (sorry, Maeve!), with my cousin Olivia as my sidekick. Avery, you would have loved it!
So check this movie out: As Olivia and I ride through fan-tabulous grounds with fancy cottages and people dressed in resort wear, the camera pans to show royal palm trees and gentle waterways with spouts of water shooting into the air. With my equally fan-tabulous Tuscan gold tankini and big, white-rimmed sunglasses, I’m just where I belong. Enjoying the sun, I notice the perfect blue Caribbean sky with a white jet trail disappearing in the distance. No snow and ice here. THIS PLACE IS TO DIE FOR!
P.S. This has to be a BSG meeting place someday—you know, like once a year, when we’re all grown up, we all fly in from wherever we live and meet up for a week of total bliss (like Banana Bliss, get it?) in the Jamaican sun.
Let me continue with my movie: OK, you can’t see my eyes behind my cool designer sunglasses (I got them at Filene’s Basement for five dollars—righteous bargain, huh?), but my eyes are wide open, recording everything to my memory. We pass a man pruning a tree, and he waves and smiles. We wave. The driver calls out to him, “All right, Bushy?” “Yes, I!” comes the answer. (Did I tell you people talk way differently here? I’ll explain it when I get home.)
We stop in front of a stand that says “Dolphin Lagoon,” and we are welcomed like royalty by the attendant, who says we are just in time for the next program. Olivia shouts, “Look!” In the lagoon, two humongous dolphins rise from the water, curve in the air, and dive back in, just like in the real movie. If only you were here, Ave! These things looked ginormous. Much bigger in person. Trust me on that.
Continuing on with Katani’s Jamaican Holiday, the movie: “Cut! Cut!” the director shouts. The star def needed a break. I have to decide, am I really going into the water to swim with those huge creatures? They must be at least fifteen feet tall. I look over at Olivia. She’s super excited. There’s a huge grin on her face, but she wants to be a vet, so this must be great for her. Me? You all know how I like to be in control, and these dolphins look like they might like to be in charge too.
So the attendant says, “Hurry, girls! You don’t want to miss a moment of this program.” We head toward the beach, strip to our swimsuits, rub on the suntan lotion, and put on the life jackets.
I take a deep breath as Olivia and I hold hands and we all enter the water, led by three attendants. There is one in a kayak rowing out to a stand in the water. That’s where we’re headed. My knees are shaking.
We are in an enclosed part of the beach, surrounded by rocks and mesh, which is the dolphins’ home. The water is rippling from a light breeze, and believe me, you need that breeze because the sun is now right over our heads. There are three seagulls sitting on the rocks, checking out the whole scene and probably waiting for a tidbit or two.
Olivia and I wade out toward the stand where there are two trainers waiting for us. Soon it gets too deep for walking, so we start swimming out to where the dolphins, Bruno and Miguel, are already playing with one of the trainers. Oh, yeah, here’s what I’m thinking: There better not be any sharks in here!
The trainer waves his hands and the dolphins are off, like circus performers, jumping out of the water in perfect unison, two or three times. Before we’re all finished exclaiming and clapping, Bruno and Miguel are back
at the stand, collecting their reward. The trainer waves his hands again, and this time they walk backward on the water. You almost can’t believe they can do such a thing.
“Cut!” the director shouts again. Oops! Our heroine (me, the Kgirl!) is afraid to get close to the dolphins. These creatures are very frisky, and you can’t tell from one moment to the next where they might be!
“It’s okay.” One of the trainers notices me slinking behind Olivia, who is very brave and can’t wait to touch these little darlings. “They are quite friendly, and we are in total control.” Olivia takes my hand to reassure me as I tread water.
The rest is like a total dream sequence. I touch the dolphins (rubbery feeling); I hold on to their fins and ride with them a short distance (Eeeek!); I allow myself to be kissed (my first kiss and it’s by a dolphin—ha-ha); AND then I, Katani Ida Summers, dance with the dolphins.
At the trainer’s instructions, we hold our hands in the air and turn around in the water as if we are dancing while he beats on a pan and the dolphins dance around with us, making their little high-pitched squeak sounds. Fear Factor is over. I’m having an incredible time! All of a sudden the trainer starts to sing, and those dolphins sing along with him, just like they’re in a band (a squeaky/screamy kind of band) or something. Then comes the big finale.
I watch as one of the trainers takes one of the group apart, holds him steady, and—oh, my gosh! The man is flying out of the water, pushed by the dolphins, and then, they just let him down near the water’s edge. I want to clap and shake all at the same time.