Greetings

I walk through the village and say, “Hello”, “Bonjour”, “Good Afternoon”. People are friendly and respond “Are you ok?” which is their version of “How are you?” I walk past the parliamentary representative office and the receptionist yells out, “Good Morning Karen”. As I pass the school children they say, “Miss, Miss! Hello Miss Karen”.

I pass by Jeffrey’s house. He is an old man who lost his wife two years ago. He eats his lunch on the porch while a pack of friendly and hungry stray dogs wait for a bit of kindness. I walk by Mrs. Nichols house. She is an old woman in her nineties. She sits on her porch every day greeting passersby. I bring her homemade cookies or cakes when I think about it.

The other day while walking to the bus I saw Sly Joseph. He is the Rasta who has land in the country. He has acquired grants and developed a partnership with the University of Vermont. He makes his own electricity and lives off his land. He is living the definition of “green”. He wants to invite Peace Corps Volunteers and the Japanese Volunteers to camp overnight on his property, swing from the rope to swim in his waters and enjoy a meal with him.

Walks through my village are a source of enjoyment for me. However, I’m always surprised when I greet one man in particular. He carries a cutlass, is dirty and must work hard in the fields. His response to my greeting is always the same. In a very slow and deliberate manner he says, “Fuck You Bitch”. He pronounces each word very slowly and very carefully as if to make sure he is completely understood. Forgetting about this strange greeting, I have been met with the same words on a few occasions now.

I know I’m different here. Maybe he’s had a problem with a white woman before. Maybe he’s heard stories about a white person. Who knows. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I related this story. The people there laughed and knew exactly who it is that greets me in such an unconventional manner. They said, “Oh, he says that to everybody”. I guess I’m really not that different. The truth is he doesn’t seem to like anyone and it doesn’t matter what I look like.