What Language Barrier...?

Since walking away from studying sign language and interpreting in May of ’05, I have hardly used what I have learned and never entertained the idea that it might be of some use to me here in Jamaica. But, as I’m learning more and more with each passing moment, I should not be surprised by anything that happens and must learn to just go with it. So when the opportunity came to visit a town on the North side of the island yesterday, I naturally jumped at the chance to see something I had yet to see. The fact that some of the day was going to be spent at a school for the deaf was a surprise only because work with the deaf had never been mentioned as a part of the ministry of the Diocese of Mandeville. In a strange piece of coincidence, it has less to do with it being part of the ministry of the Diocese and more to do with the fact that Fr. Anthony sits on the board of directors for this school.

I was both excited and scared to check out St. Christopher’s; excited at the opportunity to brush up on my skills, scared because it meant I would have to brush up on my skills. I didn’t even know if the people here used American Sign Language (ASL) or if they had their own signs, thereby rendering the chance of communication almost moot. I was pleased to find that they use ASL and without really thinking about it too much, immediately began conversing with a group of female students at the school. As was the case with my lessons in Patwois, there were equal moments of success and embarrassment and just when I thought I was safe from the question I had been asked on a daily basis since I have arrived, it came to me in sign language.

“Are you planning on becoming a priest?”

I kid you not. I have been asked that question at least once a day for the last week and on this particular day, I was asked three times. Once by the deaf students of St. Christopher’s and twice while visiting the Anglican parish of which Fr. Anthony was once a part. After concluding our business at the former we spent the remainder of our time at a Christmas lunch hosted at the latter. There, surrounded by people who came to know Fr. Anthony very well before he “crossed the Tiber,” (a phrase used to describe someone who has converted to Catholicism from a Protestant faith.) I had a chance to meet one of the most memorable people of my trip so far.

Her name is Norma and to be honest, I don’t think I was ever told her last name but after watching her in action, it is clear that she is a pillar in this community who really does not require one. She is a remarkable woman who is a native of this particular city we were visiting, Brownstown, and has had quite a prolific life in local politics, education and in the overall life of this neck of the island. She is an older woman, in her 60’s I think, but her intensity is that of someone in their prime. She didn’t say much at first; instead choosing to quietly observe all that was going on among this group of 12 people about to enjoy each other’s company. However, when she spoke, she held court and everyone paid absolute attention to every word that came from her mouth. A matriarchal sort of figure, it felt as though my acceptance or rejection on this island hinged on her approval. She is a woman whose one liners are as intelligent as her expanded thoughts.

Throughout this Christmas lunch conversation and jokes flowed freely, as did a local holiday drink called Sorrel. A sweet and dark red drink made from a local annual, it is the staple holiday drink here – think Egg Nogg only it looks more like a thick fruit punch. And similarly to our staple holiday drink, it can be made “proper” with the addition of your favorite spirit. While I had mine without such additions at this lunch, I decided to make mine “proper” when having it with dinner tonight; a sort of farewell drink before I take off tomorrow. Tonight I added Extra Proof Jamaican Rum to it; a step that in retrospect may have had a bit too healthy a measure to it. I may have to proof read this tomorrow morning before I post it just to be safe. Everyone has their own recipe for Sorrel and since the priests of St. Vincent Strabmi are popular in these parts, many in the local community wanted to fill a pitcher for them to take home and keep in their refrigerator. It’s really quite good and I hope they have a little left when I come back.

Yes, it looks like I am coming back which has been my plan all along and after talking with the Monsignor earlier today, I may be staying a little longer than I had originally planned. This two week period went well and I feel I have had a chance to get to know these men here and have clicked well with them. I honestly think I have skills to contribute and feel I have an equal amount to gain from this experience. For now however, I am heading back to the states and I am very happy about that. Ever since arriving I have had conflicting feelings: one moment I am absolutely joyful about being here and in other moments of the same day, I cannot wait to be state-side. It has been a constant tug of war that I have yet to make heads or tails of, but never have I considered cutting any of this adventure short because of it.

And for those of you wondering about the answer to the fore mentioned question: No.