In my Move Back to Jamaica, I am sometimes struck by a glimpse of a world that I don't completely comprehend.
First these pictures, and the expressions on the young ladies' faces.
Then the full pictures, now showing their outfits.
And finally, the picture in its original context -- a contest for "Hottie Hottie of the Week" in the Star newspaper.
I don't know that I have a point here, other than that as someone Moving Back to Jamaica I am often struck to silence by thing that I see that I cannot put words to, as the thoughts that occur to me come s quickly that they all get jumbled up, without forming themselves into sensible sentences.
Today, I saw a mad-man talking and shouting to himself and no-one around him, and playing with a piece of string. He threw it into the street in front of my car.
Lots of times, all I can do is stare, and seeing this picture in the Star, and seeing the mad-man were just a couple that happened today.
I guess this is what happens when you transfer 21 years of North American living to a daily life in Kingston.