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Stabroek News

The geography lessons of my life
published: Saturday | September 2, 2006


Hartley Neita

Geography was my favourite subject when I was young. My father was the headmaster of the Elementary School in our village. In addition to a globe, and maps of Jamaica and of the world which were mounted on the wall of the school, he also had these maps mounted on the wall of the verandah of our home, as well as a globe on a table beside a chair in which he sat to read the Daily Gleaner every morning.

We were encouraged to read the newspaper and, like him, to refer to the maps and the globe to put in place the countries and towns we read about.

Strikes and riots

My sister and eldest brother grew up during the 1938 strikes and riots all over Jamaica. These incidents were followed by four years of war which raged through Europe and the Pacific. These were faithfully recorded in The Gleaner and we learned where to find Easington in St Thomas, Troy in Manchester, Grange Hill in Westmoreland, Golden Grove in St Ann and Hadoo in Hanover. They were villages then. Later when we began to travel through Jamaica some of them had grown to towns.

It was the same story during the war. We knew where to find Egypt, Algeria, Libya and Tunisia in North Africa, Cyprus, Malta and Sicily in the Mediterranean, and Spain, Portugal, Hungary, Belgium, Finland, and Poland in Europe. Later, during the Pacific stage of the war, we discovered Singapore, Malaysia, Japan, and the Philippines. So that in later life when we visited these countries they had familiar references in our memories.

Geography classes at our school taught us that Jamaica had three counties - Surrey, Middlesex and Cornwall, named after English counties. And within those counties were our 14 parishes, some named after Saints, others after Governors and others after British Dukes. In addition to the parishes we also learnt the names of their capitals and their main towns.

These capitals were once connected by the main roads. Travelling through Jamaica one passed through every capital. It is no longer so. Where, once, you passed through Spanish Town, Old Harbour, May Pen and Mandeville on the way from Kingston to Santa Cruz, the highways now take you away from these town centres. Familiar sights such as the clock towers in Old Harbour and May Pen are no more. Soon too, the joy of driving through the early morning mist in the Rio Cobre gorge will be a memory of the past.

Railway stations

Another feature of the geography classes then was to learn the names of the railway stations in Jamaica. The railway was an important factor in the economics and social life of the island. Our village had a railway station and so we were therefore connected to this network. From early, too, we travelled by train to Kingston, and knew the stops at May Pen, Old Harbour, Spanish Town, Grange and Gregory Park. And to visit our grandparents in mid-St. Catherine we also rode the train from Spanish Town, Bog Walk, Linstead and Riversdale.

One of the interesting features of this trip was a three-quarter-mile long tunnel near Bog Walk. Just before entering its darkness, the porters walked through the carriages instructing passengers to close the windows. Despite doing so, the ash and smoke entered the carriages and burnt our eyes. But it was an experience we could boast about when we returned to our friends in our village. We had braved the unknown; they had not!

The railway is now no more. It is just a geography lesson that was the past.

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