Left: Sherrel waits for her next customer.   Right: Perlitta shows off her tasty shrimp.

Perlitta lifted the cover from the blackened dutch pot and used a giant leaf to fan the flames underneath. She shifted a log that was under the pot and a puff of white smoke rose to her eyes. She started to squint, but as a car whizzed by, Perlitta's eyes lit up. "Swims here. Hot peppa swims here!" Zoom! And the car was gone.

"Bwoy if I know you was coming, I woulda tidy up di place likkle," Perlitta said as she dumped the contents of the pot into a plastic container on the makeshift table in front of her.

I looked around and wondered just what there was to be tidied up. After all, as far as I could see, there was just bush, dirt and a sorry-looking dog there beside her. I guess she must have seen me looking around quizzically, so Perlitta spoke up. "Mi woulda did sweep up di place likkle and thing," she said.

Good reception

But there on the roadside in the quiet community, I couldn't have asked for a better reception. You see, photographer Norman Grindley and I had not been in Middle Quarters, St. Elizabeth for more than a minute before we were approached by the friendly Perlitta, carrying a batch of her famous peppered shrimp. Yes, Middle Quarters is known across the island as the shrimp capital of Jamaica and the second we got there, we figured out why.

Little red creatures

Lining the streets from the sign that says 'Welcome to Middle Quarters', to as far as the eyes could see, were dozens of women, children and even a few men waving the little red creatures at passing motorists.

Perlitta was one of the first in the line.

"Yes sar. I been here fi more than 16 years. I use di likkle swims money and put mi pickney dem into school. Is not much, but what di good Lord bless you with you must be grateful for," she said as she stirred something in the pot.

"Me and mi likkle dutch pot been doing fine," she beamed as she spoke. Now Perlitta is by no means a modest shrimp cook. No sir, to hear her tell it, her peppered shrimps are beyond compare.

"Yes man. Is all about knowing the right amount of pepper and salt. For if you ration di peppa, den it nah go come out right," she said, a serious look in her eyes.

So how much will the best shrimp in the country set you back? Well not necessarily as much as you might expect. Perlitta's eyes widened and she started to rub her stomach when I asked her this.

One people

"Look yah man. We is all one people around here. We sell by conscience. Sometime people stop and dem say that dem don't have more than $50 so we only sell them that amount. And sometime some school pickney come and nuh have more than $20, so we sell dem that amount. We just use we conscience," she explained.

Soon, a small van drove up with two men on board and Perlitta ran up to them with her container of fresh shrimp. We bid her farewell and went off deeper into the community.

A slim, ageing woman wearing a cap was sitting on a chair under a tree with a bucket at her feet. She barely smiled as we approached her and told her of our business in the community.

She looked us up and down and after about two minutes, she said: "So unnu not buying any swims?"

After a few niceties, the woman soon came around. Everyone calls her Miss Vie and she has been selling shrimp in Middle Quarters for more than 25 years. She is one of the more popular vendors in the community. "Mi deh yah since Wappie kill Phillup and all when him dead and come back I will still be here," she said. We asked Miss Vie to tell us about life in Middle Quarters.

"It easy going. I remember when I was a girl, dis place used to carry the swing. Dem time deh jukebox was just coming in and I used to go drop legs at di shop. But I am a Christian now, mi nuh badda wid dat again. But it woulda nice if somebody play a jukebox again though. Mi can't dance to it, but at least mi coulda move mi foot. For Jesus don't love when you too deady deady," she chuckled as she spoke.

Means of survival

Miss Vie spotted a woman walking on the opposite side of the road. "Sherrel! Come yah young gyal! Come chat to di man dem!" she shouted and the woman sauntered over. "Hello please," the woman said. We asked her how the shrimp business was going. "Well right now it kinda poko poko. But other time it alright. Is what we round here do fi a living," said Sherrel, smiling.

So what do the hard working people of Middle Quarters do for fun?

"Well if dem bring back a jukebox inna di square den it woulda nice up back tings. At least mi coulda move mi foot to some music," said Miss Vie, much to the amusement of Sherrel and a few other woman standing nearby.

"Is what you laughing about? We need back a jukebox! We need fi get some long hair Chiney fi come open up a shop and nice up di place," Miss Vie was adamant. "Things was nicer when mi was a girl, a true unnu nuh know!" Miss Vie continued and the others kept on laughing.

Soon it was time for us to be off again, so we said goodbye to the shrimp people of Middle Quarters and with a smile and a wave, they wished us well.

Said Miss Vie : "Walk good and may God go with you. When you a drive nuh badda stop and take up nobody. Just go straight home! Until a nedda time again!"

Send your comments to robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.

Left: A sleepy-looking town, but the shrimp is as spicy as they get.   Right: The famous Middle Quarters shrimp. - photos by Norman Grindley/Deputy Chief Photographer