Ya Man

Well, at least I flew over the famed beaches of Jamaica. Waves rolled to shore in layers, just like the photo-shopped pictures in travel magazines. But then the plane also rolled, and all I saw was cloud. I thought to myself, this is getting ridiculous. It’s so typical for me. I can’t count the times I served in New York City at urban projects and have still not seen the Statue of Liberty. Just the basement of some inner-city church. Same with the famous souk in Amman, and the White House or Smithsonian in DC, and many historic churches and sites in the 30 cities in the US I served in. Too busy to see them. Never any time. Too much fatigue by the time I’m done. And now, I can add the beach in the world’s quintessential vacation spot to the list of things missed.

But, I did see something that many won’t because of it’s location. Ya Man, it was random but I saw Bob Marley’s house. I don’t know much about Marley. Reggae. Weed. Dreads. A legacy of music known around the world. Marley came from the rough streets of a slum called Trench Town, which he sang about. Our students will study Trench Town next April, so I was doing an advance trip to scout it out. It is a poor and violent community that happened to bear one of the most internationally known music superstars. Did I go in the house? No. I passed it on the way to a literacy program for children that was on the same street . But I rolled down the window and heard the familiar beat and guitar tumble in. And I thought to myself, this is ridiculous.

My hosts couldn’t believe I spent only two days in country, and all of that in meetings. Typical American; always onto something else. In my case it was a conference in Memphis the following day. Not to say I didn’t see some cool stuff: an NGO specializing in transformational ministry. A micro-lending ministry and , an early childhood program, a reading program, a church plant, a radio ministry providing national commentary on the social conditions of the country, a spectacular view of Kingston Harbor. I ate some traditional Jamaican food, including Ackee and Salt Fish for breakfast. I met the Chick-fil-A guy of Jamaica. And the president of Caribbean Graduate School of Theology and I essentially raced down a restricted corridor in the Jamaican airport to get to a flight we didn’t have tickets for to grab the last two seats as they were closing the door. The bottom line? I didn’t make the beach, but I made some fabulous memories, as well as plans for next year. But when I take my students there, our toes are going in the sand on one day. And Memphis? Probably won’t do Graceland. Typical. Ridiculous.