Jamaica: Dialing it down a notch

So I’m in Jamaica on a research trip/vacation. I have to figure out sooner rather than later a productive way to allocate time across the two so I actually get research done and not obsess about the work I could be doing during the vacation portion of the program. I’ll figure it out though. I neglected you all in the past two weeks because I was preparing two papers for a conference last week, and of course there was the actual conferencing. I remember mentioning in one of my posts that when I am in work mode, that’s it for everything else – so now you know why I haven’t been sharing the eat goods as frequently as I began. Nonetheless, I am back and have some nyamins related musings to share.

I was at CSA's 34th annual conference all of last week, and Thursday was my first presentation, at 8am. I got asked to be on that specially arranged panel after a few of the original presenters dropped out. I was a little reluctant when my ubiquitous (even post PhD) PhD supervisor called and pitched it – I write on The Pagoda , The Pagoda’s author Patricia Powell would be responding to the presentations (btw she has a new book out The Fullness of Everything ). Good pitch yes? Yes, but I had already submitted a panel of my own, and that would mean two presentations at CSA – something only the incredibly nuff and overachievers do. Yes I know, I fall into both categories at times, but dat nuh mean seh mi like when I’m perceived as either of those ways. I got some really upsetting critique along those lines this past week that I had to call big sis to vent on, and they still bother me, but I’m working on placing it all into a perspective devoid of negativity and brings serenity. Nadia insisted this week that I was so not mellow, but totally high-strung - ouch. We met and became fast friends with a USC colleague Allyson at CSA in Brazil 2007. 

I met her husband this trip, and he called me type triple A and kept on feeding me calming herbal supplements . They did work to take some of the edge off, so if you are a supplement person they might be worth a try. 

I approach pretty much everything I do with a spirit of excellence. It’s a part of my faith system that I work actively to maintain and it hasn’t ever failed me. Of course it comes with requisite anxiety and some stress, but those of you who know me, know that this is something that works, at times exceptionally in my life. Knowing that Powell would be responding to my work, added a little pressure, but there was no way I was going say no – two presentations, and overachieving cyaading or not. Bear wid me, how this all comes to food will be apparent soon. The second presentation was stressful for other reasons; it was about black masculinity, sports, politics and pretty much very new areas of inquiry for me. It was built around the implications of amalgamating the two iconic visages featured in the editorial cartoon below.

This presentation was more about soliciting feedback on foundational thoughts than it was about presenting research. CSA is a tough place to do this because its international and multi-disciplinary – you can get great feedback, but you can also be traumatized. So I started the week with much on the brain. It never made it easier that the presentations were on the last two days, so I was carrying them all week. Put on top of that, I came to Jamaica without starting, much less finishing the second presentation. I prioritized the first one (it would have to be delivered in Powell’s presence) and did something that I have never done before – writing a presentation during a conference – pure nerves.

All this being said, CSA would schedule my panels for possibly the two worst spots on the program: 8am Thursday and Friday morning. Thursday wasn’t so bad. We had a decent audience; even my BFF Dr Chin showed up to offer some support and to see Powell (she read The Pagoda over spring break when we were in Miami buying her wedding dress).  I should add that I was expecting two other presenters. All three of us would present, and Powell would respond. Not so when I get there on Thursday morning. This panel had been plagued by bad luck from its inception. My dissertation supervisor had to drop out of the conference because of a bad accident with dogs that subsequently involved surgery, a wheel chair, and being grounded for three months. Di food story a come; it’s called build up - hold on. The person that stepped in on her behalf should have had a paper, but alas on Thursday morning she says, “I don’t have a paper. I was with Pat last week, and had graduation last week and didn’t get a chance to write one.” Oh, and that’s not all “Paula [third presenter] isn’t coming, so its just you.” Great.

Outside of the havoc wreaked mentally by holding up this panel that I wasn’t even supposed to be on by myself, it went well. It sucked that I had neglected my own proposed panel to make sure this presentation was super tight, but at the end of the day, professionally it was a good thing. In a decent circle of colleagues I am now the epitome of a trooper and Jah know I will be calling on all their asses for the compensatory favors. By the time the panel ended, I just wanted to get some coffee and food (see I told you it was coming). I was sitting alone in the hotel dining room picking at stuff and coming down from heightened annoyance and anxiety when Lesley calls to say she is off and if I want to do something. I thought of the afternoon panels I wanted to see, which included the grad students from UM that I wanted to support and a few interesting films, but thought you know what f%ck it, I want to go to Hellshire.

The combination of sun, sand, sea, and super fresh seafood was precisely what I needed to really decompress from all the anxiety and annoyance I had been carrying all week. Nadia had already changed back into her nightclothes and was fully bedded down for an afternoon nap when I charged into the room declaring, “get your swim suit on, we going to Hellshire.” I love that Nadia only protests for all of 2 seconds and then with just a little grumbling gets up and rolls with whatever I want to do. She is the perfect, pocket size travel companion – and the men in Jamaica LOVE her. We roped in Allyson and her husband Joe, piled into Lesley’s civic and headed out for one of the most delightfully lazy afternoons I have ever had. In one of Hellshire’s signature thatched wooden shacks, on a sand dusted ply board picnic table, over roast fish (stuffed with the pickle they pour over the fried fish lawdamercy!), garlic lobster, festival and a ice cold D&G pineapple soda, I forgot about the stress I had carried all week and even that I still didn’t have a conclusion for presentation #2, scheduled for the next morning bright and early. There is something about super fresh fish that only requires a little salt and pepper to bring out its flavor. When it’s fresh, as in, just pulled from the sea 2 hours ago fresh, you can actually taste what fish tastes like – no lime required to cut raw. We got there too late in the afternoon for snapper, but the firm meatiness of the parrot was a pretty good substitute.  Who can obsess about being obsessive under such conditions? Cyaad me however you want, I know when to take it down a notch, how to take it down a notch, and still shine like a rock star when its time to perform.

It was a perfect afternoon where I got to be with my best friends from two of my three worlds and temporarily forget about work, over the very unique experience of eating at Hellshire. I wonder sometimes about what it will be like when my academic cohort meets up with my other people. 

Like the night before when two of my friends from high school days, Teri and Kimmy, joined Nadia, Allyson, Joe and I for a lyme in the Courtleigh dining room that lasted almost 6 hours. 

Throw in a table (linen, sand, or ply board), some food, libations, and it doesn’t really matter which worlds we all inhabit personally or professionally. All the stereotypes of talking shop all the time, or even intellectual arrogance are of concern sometimes. But then I remember that I try not to socialize with people who do any of those things, and I tend to align myself with people like me, who if we didn’t tell people, they wouldn’t know what we did professionally. For all they know I'm a showgirl. Good friends, the comfort and intimacy of a full belly, as enhanced by the ‘niceness’ of good wine, are among the reasons why from it eat good, mi di deh pon mi teet.

Next up:

Jamaica: Of white linens and street food