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Falling for Jamaica I came to Jamaica to get back to my roots so to speak, never having stepped foot in this beautiful country before it seemed strange that as I stared out of the window; of the coach, as I left the airport and journeyed to the hotel, everything seemed familiar. Thinking back to the story’s my grandparents told me as a child, of their own childhoods here, Jamaica feels like a part of who I am, it feels like home. Opting to stay in a hotel and not put out family, I can’t help but take advantage of the hotels excursions and you can’t come to Ocho Rios without experiencing Dunn’s river falls. After arriving by boat and stepping off of the dock on to the beach, you can hear the falls before you can see them, the rush of the water beating down on to the rocks below is therapeutic. It’s like nothing I’ve seen, they seem to go on forever, it’s like a torrential stairway to heaven. Looking up from the bottom is daunting, to think that anyone would choose to walk up these flooded steps to get to the top is madness, especially when there are some perfectly good, dry, uneven steps beside them to walk up, but where’s the adventure in that? Choosing to risk an upwards slip and slide, I’m told by a guide to hold hands with the strangers in front of me and behind me, then we slowly and carefully start our ascent. Like a not so graceful human daisy chain, we stumble on the moss underfoot, laughter erupting high and low, with the odd yelp thrown in. I strain to grip on to the slippery stones beneath me, praying that I miraculously grow suckers on the bottom of my feet in hopes I can keep some of my dignity. But it’s not to be, one of my legs fly forward knocking me off-balance. I feel myself fall backwards, but knowing I have no way of stopping it, I let myself go and for a moment it’s as if I’m flying, a blur of green jungle, people and then blue sky, mingle together in front of my eyes, until I hit the water falling into the pool below. I bubble up to the surface gasping for breath, flapping across the water to the nearest rock holding on for dear life. Surprisingly the first thought that comes to mind isn’t that “I’m drowning!” it’s “oh god what just brushed against my leg and is it going to bite me?” I look up at the shocked yet slightly worried faces of my group, as their hands scramble over me to pull me out and onto my feet. Dripping wet and standing on slightly drier ground, I try not to look like I’m feeling sorry for myself; even though I am, but my cheeks flush red giving me away and suddenly their once concerned faces turn quickly to amusement, so much for my dignity. I eventually manage to compose myself and make the rest of my trek up without anymore mishaps. Stepping off of the falls, finally reaching the top seems like an achievement and the reward, a beautiful forest, a great view down, and dry land, but before I can make my way to the beach below I’m stopped by the guide. “Hi, yuh wa fi buy a DVD?” I look at him confused for a moment and ask “A dvd of what?” He looks back at me with a grin and replies “Ah video ah yuh climbing di falls” after a long pause I finally ask him “I’m going to guess and say you got me falling over the falls?” He laughs out loud “Yuh man, mi definitely get dat!” Trying to hide my shame and amusement, with all the sarcasm I can muster I reply “Great... I’ll take one”.