This is the entrance to Culture Yard in Trench Town, where Bob Marley stayed and created much of his music.
Mbala is a musician. He performed at my daughter’s show for her end-of-year concert. I even got to participate by using one of instruments.
I wish I could have gone to Calabash this year but I don’t think other patrons would have appreciated two loud tiny people. This is a nice review from a regular reader and fellow blogger.
Disclaimer: This post is unofficial and unaffiliated with the Calabash Literary Festival, and not endorsed by the producers either. Just my own opinions and reflections.
Who else loves literature? If you raised your hand, you’ll probably agree with me that book fests are the new music fests. Let’s face it: comfortable seats and soft spoken word beats standing for hours having your ears screamed off any day.
After about a dozen years of impatience and envy (bruk pocket and bad mind) I finally managed to attend the Calabash Literary Festival, the best little festival in the best little village on the best little island in the world.
A brief introduction
Calabash (as it is affectionately known) was started in 2001 by Jamaican founders Colin Channer, Kwame Dawes and Justine Henzell. After being staged annually for a decade, Calabash now draws crowds to Treasure Beach every other year. And the…
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The corn man in Trench Town 😀
I must say we had a visit to the new Passport and Immigration office today and it was lovely. It is clean, orderly and there is even a working bathroom with toilet paper. The staff were friendly and efficient. Thank you! This is an image of the old chaos that was on Constant Spring Road.
When a football match is playing in Jamaica, you know. The other day I was in the doctor’s office with my son waiting. A football game was on and a crowd was watching. And all of a sudden both my son and I jumped in response to loud screams and yells. I guess someone had scored a goal. The enthusiasm here is unparalleled, like most things in Jamaica, there is never a shortage of passion. Flags are everywhere, the roads are quiet at certain times. And there are intermittent screaming sessions. I have to remind myself that it is football, not some bloody murder going on.