Jamaican Odyssey

A few nights ago I had the pleasure of chaperoning an outing with my students. Some of them spend the week on campus, because they live far away. Since we assistants have nothing to do during the evenings, we happily agreed to accompany the group to a nearby city for a presentation/concert on the history of Reggae. I don't necessarily feel old enough to qualify as a chaperone, but our main job was to make sure everyone made it on the bus and no one smoked any pot. Kelly accompanied a different field trip during which a few students had the nerve to smoke a joint in broad daylight, without the ambiance of Reggae music. Fortunately, I didn't have do anything but exhude the formidable presence of an adult.

I personally like Reggae a lot, and the presentation was amusing and informative. Imagine six dorky French guys acting out the history of Jamaican music, dressing as musicians and producers -- including hats with fake dreadlocks -- and speaking with various accents. They were all excellent musicians and played true to the style. My only complaint was that they did more explaining than music making. They couldn't oblige the crowd with an encore, because the venue and their scolastic sponsors required they finish before such-and-such time.

All the students were hyper on the ride back, and the oldest students took their fill of hard cider after the show. Staying true to my position as an old lady chaperone, I lost myself in nostalgia and memories from my time in Sénégal. My favorite nights in Africa were the Reggae soirées that started at midnight and went until the first Islamic call to prayer, around 6 am.

I didn't listen to much Reggae before I traveled, but I developed a taste for it in Sénégal, and the music and place will probably stay linked in my memory. I think those nights were special to me, because it was the first time in my life I was 100 percent our of my element and 100 percent OK with it. I made friends there who taught me about the music, Sénégal, and the solidarity between Jamaica and Africa. I would love to go back to drink their delicious coffee and dance all night...

I dreamt about Sénégal and going to Jamaica someday, while the kids screeched and sang in the back of the bus. I'm amazed at the cultural mélange I sometimes sort through in my head. Here I am in bus full of French students pumped up on Jamaican music, and my head is swimming with thoughts of Africa and the Caribbean. I didn't expect much from the "Jamaican Odyssey," but it definitely took me out of the tiny bubble of Confolens, France.