(All color pics. snapped on 3/20/11 - using an iPhone and Instagram filters)
When I arrived at my friend's orchard (after having been invited to sample the culinary delights that the Jamaican apple pickers had prepared, one afternoon) I was beyond exhausted, as well as famished. I had spent the entire night before - partying until the sun came up, and from there - had gone straight out to take pictures all day with a friend. I hadn't eaten a single morsel of food since early the prior evening.
I was so weary, that I nearly plopped down in the gravel alongside this lazy farm dog - wanting nothing more at that very moment, than to catch a few, much-needed z's. Thankfully though, I rallied - and partook in lively conversation with the amiable Jamaicans, while filling my empty belly with the most delicious epicurean dishes imaginable.
(All blk. & wt. pics. snapped on 3/20/11 - using a Holga 120)
It was breezy and cool out, but what better way to keep warm - than by sipping on a piping hot serving of spicy, goat soup - ladled from this cauldron where it had simmered for hours.
My curiosity over these two smoked cow heads - spurred a lively and lengthy dialog between me and a particularly charming Jamaican, named "V".
It was mesmerizing to watch as V skillfully prepared the heads into yet another delicacy on the day's extensive menu - by chopping the heads up with remarkable precision, using a battery of small but razor-sharp axes.
This was more than simply a feast for the tummy however, it was a feast for most all of the senses...
The island music that blared from an old shed (which had been converted into a makeshift bar and dance floor) took me to a place far away from Virginia, and elevated everyone's spirits.
The smell of burning wood, and roasting chicken and pork, but most especially the Jamaicans' legendary curried goat - was virtually as satiating as the food itself was.
And there was so much to see. Quite frankly, it was kind of overwhelming.
The odd thing was, I came home with surprisingly few photos (and even fewer worth sharing on Little Pretties) per the plethora of possible subjects to snap. The only explanation I could come up with for my lapse in productivity, was that I'd let myself become integrated in the experience...rather than assuming my more common role as disconnected spectator.
I'm typically not much of a "people" person, but the warmth with which I, as an outsider was welcomed at what should've been a pretty exclusive occasion - has me rethinking my general opinion of mankind...and I'm eager to reciprocate the unconditional generosity of such wonderfully gracious hosts.
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