Cry me a river

You’d think that living in Vancouver for more than 16 years would’ve prepared me for the rain. Not so much. Hurricane season officially started on June 1^st (thanks to the Canadian High Commission for the reminder), and although we’re not experiencing gale force winds (yet), the rain is another story. Torrential downpours are one thing, but it’s the inability of the city to deal with the downpours that’s wreaking havoc. I’ve mentioned potholes in previous posts. Well they’ve grown, and are serving as excellent receptacles for the rain. Add to that a complete absence of any sort of drainage, and it doesn’t take much of a rain dump to convert streets to rivers, potholes to lakes, and passing cars to wave-makers.

Up until now, most of the downpours have happened in the late afternoon, and I’ve managed to get home without too much fuss. Well, that all changed today. The morning dawned dull and grey, and if the roads were any indication, the rain had been coming down for a few hours. But, being a conscientious Canadian worker, and a Vancouverite to boot, a bit of the wet stuff was not going to stop me from getting to the office. After all, I had my gortex runners and a nifty rain jacket that folds into its own pocket – how bad could it be? Based on very solid reasoning (rain = hurricane = wind = umbrella useless)  I did not bring a brollie with me to Jamaica. But that’s OK, I thought, I’ll grab a route taxi to Half Way Tree (I usually walk the 10 minute journey), then I’ll hop on my usual Coaster, and then get another route taxi from Cross Roads to the office – really, how bad could it be? Mistake #1 – thinking I could get a route taxi. There weren’t that many to be found (maybe taxi drivers stay home when it rains?), and those that did float by were full. So, I waded down Hope Road, leaping (quite elegantly I think) across small lakes and hugging the wall to avoid the breakers. Mistake #2 – no umbrella. A rain jacket that reaches mid-thigh, only keeps one dry to mid-thigh, and gortex-shmortex when you’re walking in a foot of water. Halfway to Halfway Tree (would that make it Quarter-way Tree?), I contemplated going back home. Once again I relied on my solid reasoning – I’m already wet, I may as well continue – how much worse could it be? Reaching the vendors at Halfway Tree I made the best decision of the day (so far) and bought a $5 umbrella. Now bear in mind, these vendors have been selling the brollies all week, but I’ve been too cheap and stubborn to buy one – I guess that’s Mistake #3. So, I’ve made it to Halfway Tree, I have an umbrella – this is not bad at all - ya think? On any given day there are 5 or 6 coasters lined up, and the “ducters” (conductors) yell and gesticulate for passengers to enter their chariots. Well, not in the rain. One lonesome Coaster, a huddled mass under the bus shelter, and a drenched whitee. Fortunately the ducter took pity on me and literally hauled me onto the bus and wedged me between a couple of school boys, who’d managed to stay dry until I arrived. Mistake #4 – thinking a Coaster is a good mode of transport during a rainstorm. The windows were closed, (of course they were, I mean, we wouldn’t want to get wet), it’s 35 degrees, and I’m wearing a plastic jacket – let the sweating begin. Coaster journeys are exhilarating on sunny days, imagine the added excitement of whooshing through rivers and gliding into dams to let the passengers swim on and off. Pulling up at Cross Roads was a team effort. The ducter, passengers, and random people on the sidewalk yelling directions at the driver so he could manoeuvre the bus as close to the curb as possible. While these efforts were greatly appreciated, it really didn’t make much difference, as walking through the pools was unavoidable. But, at least I’d arrived at Cross Roads, and feeling quite proud of myself, I waded my way to the route taxi area. Mistake #5, same as #1. Not only was the area that usually houses at least 30 route taxis completely flooded, but there was not a single taxi in sight. So, there I was, standing on the sidewalk contemplating my next move (at least I had my umbrella), when a rogue taxi pulled up and yelled “Camp Road.” I jumped in so fast, I almost beheaded the driver with my coveted brollie. 

DRF Parking Lot

Phew, made it to the Peace Centre, although not everyone was as lucky, as the roads were littered with cars stuck in 4 feet of water. Hard to believe, I was only half an hour late, which is actually early in Jamaican time. The office was almost abandoned, with only 5 other people making it there (out of a staff of 25). Four of them had driven in, so they were dry, but George (another Canadian volunteer) had also braved the public transport journey, was drenched, and had already called a taxi to take him home. There was no way I could work in clothes that were soaking wet from the waist down, so I got in on the taxi ride, and was home by 10:00 am – just a short 2 hours after the journey began.

So, here’s what I’ve learned:

1. Don’t rely on sound reasoning
2. Take an umbrella to a country that has a rainy season, and if you don’t, buy one on the first day it rains
3. Jamaican public transport does not work in the rain
4. Next time, stay home!