Sunday is church day; Whitehouse, Jamaica - Day 6

Today is Sunday.  We get up and have some fruit for breakfast and hit the swimming pool for a few minutes to rinse off the sticky heat. Linda has a couple of kayaks that she has graciously offered for us to take out, so we grab them, take paddles and life jackets, and head off toward the beach.






Even by 10:00 am, the sun is already high in the sky and it is hot. There is no wind and it’s a perfect day to be out on the ocean.
We paddle around in the bay a little where the water is calm.  It’s peaceful and beautiful out here on the ocean, just the two of us, without another soul around. Looking in one direction, we can see all the way down the coast.  In the other direction, nothing but ocean for miles.  It is beautiful, calm, and a little scary all at the same times when I start to reflect on how vast and wide and deep the ocean really is.  We paddle, race, splash, and giggle.  After about 30 minutes, we decide that our arms are tired, we have probably gotten enough sun, and it’s time to go back in to get ready to go to church.

Church in Whitehouse is an interesting experience.  It’s long and loud and busy.  Ladies with fancy hats and gloves are fanning themselves and it seems like there is constant motion.  We are, of
course, the only white people in the building and it’s obvious that we are guests so everyone comes up to greet us.  Once church starts it’s mostly a lot of singing.  And singing.  A little free style praying. And more singing.  It doesn’t seem like there is really any direction to the service, no liturgy, no real sermon, just praising and singing.  After about two hours, the final “amen” is said and people stream toward the doors.  We are kind of celebrities for the moment, so it takes us another 20 minutes to move the 15 feet to the door.

We finally make it out of the hot and crowded church and take off in search of something for lunch. Since it doesn’t really seem like there is much food at the house, we ask Linda if there is another restaurant in town that might be open other than the one on the ocean.  Linda takes us to what she says is a pizza place but it’s really just a house in the middle of a neighborhood.  She tells us that the man who lives here is a big time drug dealer and uses this as a cover for his operations.  Oh really? It’s probably not a really good cover if everyone knows about it.  But we are hungry, aren't planning on buying anything other than food, and she says the pizza is pretty good.  So, we go in.  But they tell us that there is no pizza today.  Ugh.

We are hot, hungry and frustrated as we head off to find something to eat.  So, we go toward the ocean to the one and only place that is open on Sunday.  Z Bar Restaurant.  The service is terribly slow, the country music is loud and horrible, and it starts to rain.  Again.  No one is in a very good mood at this point.  It’s pretty late in the day by the time we finish our meal.  We run to the car and I almost fall when I slip in a puddle.  I’m drenched and cranky.  The air outside is muggy and sticky. But the air conditioning in the car is too cold.  I will be glad to get back, put on dry clothes, and rest.