Disclaimer: this post contains images not suitable for kids or anyone offended by illegal narcotics. I don’t endorse the use of any drug; as a photographer I document cultures and Jamaica is all about the ganja. Be warned!
My first day in Jamaica I actually got up early (that’s a big deal in my world, trust me) to make the Bob Marley jeep tour at 8am. Yeah I could do a sweaty, stinky, much safer bus tour, but I really couldn’t see the fun in that. This 3 hour tour (yes yes you’re all singing Gilligan’s Island) took 7 hours; holding onto the back of a jeep zipping around 2 foot wide roads while dodging goats, buses, and the locals in 30 degree weather could take a bit outta a girl.
Bob Marley lived way up on Mount Zion, in the rough, the tumble, the poor. I loved every second of it! It was just a bit of a bummer (more for her than for me) that his mom passed away a month before so I didn’t get to meet her. RIP Mother M. If you’re like me, you might assume that because Jamaica is SO known for it’s love of the green stuff that it would be legal; you would assume wrong and you would be arrested. I still can’t believe that it’s illegal and yet EVERYONE does it and EVERYONE sells it. At least on the part of the island I was (Ocho Rios). Even the old folks on the jeep tour with me had their pockets stuffed with the ‘good smoke’. Oh dear! My poor mom would have a heart attack. I didn’t say MY pockets were stuffed…sheesh….
P.S. for all you technie nerds, all these photos were taken with my Canon 5D and 50mm 1.4
I bought my sister’s kids Bob Marley t-shirts at this stand in the middle of the rain forest…
I loved this guy just heavin’ the gospel outta him on the corner…
I have a shot of these two guys a second earlier where they’re smiling and waving, but this tells a different story…
You know you’re a success when your mug is on a beach towel…
I learned that Rhasta is a way of life, not a religion. Bob Marley believed in the All Mighty God, our Creator and renamed his home Mount Zion for this purpose…learning about him and his lifestyle was an eye opener and I’m still not sure what I think! He married two women on the sly and had a whole host of kids (some he knew of, some he didn’t). Then there’s the drugs…quite the conundrum. I honestly don’t believe that any one person is perfect and he obviously didn’t believe that the good smoke was a sin. I’m not judging…I’m just saying.
I also learned that Rhasta men don’t wear the Jamaica colors (green is earth, yellow is sun, black is the Jamaican people), instead they wear the colors of the Ethiopian flag (green, yellow, red) to represent the earth, the sun, and the blood we all share as children of God.
Jamaica’s version of The Hills…
By the end of the day I was just dying to ask people ’so…what brings you here? what have you been up to all day?”…maybe I should’ve…
Roadside bar…
Sure he’s dealing drugs, but he’s not too cool to hold a purse…
Growing on the side of the road…
The original Skinny Cow…
Bob’s house…
Our guide, Crazy, demonstrating Bob’s meditation pillow…the concrete flooring was added after he died (pity)…
“we’ll share the shelter of my single bed”…no wonder Bob had so many kids running around! This is where him and his wife (one of them) slept…
Though cameras weren’t allowed, I managed to get this quick shot inside Bob’s mausoleum…
Outside people were…um…relaxing…and yea he said it was okay to take his picture! I think he was proud…
Just a little shout out to all the Newfies out there, since we live on the Real Rock!
I know I’m pale and ridiculously white-girl, but here’s the only photo of me in Jamaica; this was our driver, Chin, and the jeep that nearly put me in an early grave…
