It's been a little while now, but from work, cooking and cleaning, for some reason I haven't found the time to blog.  (Yes, I lead an exciting life here - I am saving to afford the excursions).  Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures so I will place the blame for my blog post shortage on a lack of photographic accompaniments. 

I figure in any case, I should post *something*, before people start thinking I fell off the side of the island.  This past week was a birthday week - there were three birthdays of the ten or so volunteers here.  So for each one, we went for either drinks or dinner or both.  For the latest adventure (yesterday), we went to a restaurant called the Truck Stop.  It's a nice hang out spot with outdoor seating, which kind of reminds me of Scotchies (from previous blog post).  Here, I had jerk pork, which was delicious. A fellow volunteer friend advised that I should eat the pork with the bread that comes with it.  All in one bite. That was the single best advice I've had so far, it increased the pork's tastiness exponentially!  I think I have a favourite dish in Jamaica.

Over the past weekend, some of us went to the beach at night, and just relaxed by the bonfire.  Again, as a city boy, I don't usually get a chance to go out and do something like this.  More and more, I feel like I don't belong in the city - but I'll still come back, eventually!  The next day, we rented a car and explored the south / southeast coast of the island, going to Morant Bay.  We hung out there and lied on the beach for a bit again, then headed home - we do a lot of eating and lazing around on the beach here.  On the way back, we were on a mission to find a jerk chicken stand.  Not one of the chain restaurants, but one of the street vendors for some real Jamaican street meat.  We passed by some on the way up to Morant Bay, but it was a while back on our path, and we were hungry.  Between the one we first passed on the way up, and the beach, we found none!  Zip, zilch, nil.  No jerk chicken in Jamaica for miles.  Apparently on Sundays, no one cooks chicken.  We ended up eating some fried fish - that's my third whole fish now since I've arrived and I'm still lovin' it.

Anyways, because I realize most of this blog post was about food, I'll finish off with a little bit about Spanish Town.  I'm supposed to be posted in the Spanish Town office in an effort to spread out some of the volunteers at the DRF.  I made my first trek there a couple of days ago.  It's a place that my security guard and taxi driver warned me about so I was unsure about what to expect when I arrived.  Although gang flare-ups happen, they're hard to predict and for the time being, it seems peaceful.  The bus station and our office is maybe a 10 minute walk, and we're right in the middle of what would be considered the downtown area.  It's a vibrant place, with a lot of people out and about.  The area is replete with street vendors, stores, stray goats and dogs.  It has something of a marketplace atmosphere, even though I wouldn't necessarily call it a market.  I wouldn't want to stick around after dark, but on first impression, it's a decent enough place to be.  I guess we will wait and see what happens!