A fruit vendor prepares goods for sale at the waterfront. - photos by Robert Lalah

The Kingston waterfront is a place where, no matter what time or day it is, you're bound to run into some of the most interesting and colourful people on the island. Take Lenny, the melon vendor, for instance, who'll go through great pains to tell you of his sexual dysfunctions by using the most intimate details you can imagine. Never mind the fact that he doesn't know you, you'll soon know more about him than you care to. But that sort of thing is for another time and place.

I was at the waterfront early one day last week and ran into Miss Enid, a craft and boiled corn vendor who has an overbite that dominates her entire face. She, however, has no trouble smiling, and walked up to me with a big one.

"Hello! Buying something fi you baby madda today?" she asked, holding up a small beaded necklace. I asked her how long she's been selling at the waterfront. She looked about 60 years old.

"Well, I selling around town now for more than 40 years now. I used to sell broom and one time I used to sell inna Coronation Market, but things slow up now so I move to the craft. It suppose to be the best thing now like how dem say a lot a white people coming fi di cricket. I ongle a pray dat dem come wid dem money ready fi spend," she said. Her voice went up and down like a roller coaster and at times it was difficult to make out exactly what she was saying. Luckily, she spoke slowly.

We were standing close to some benches in front of the water. There was a fishy smell that got stronger each time there was a strong gust of wind. The water hitting against the rocks made a constant slapping sound. The place was clean and the grass was well kept. I noticed a crowd some distance away and squinted to see better. Miss Enid walked hurriedly away from me when she realised that I wasn't going to buy anything from her, but not before giving me a "stop wasting my time you idiot" look with her eyes.

Religious meeting

A prayer meeting taking place at the waterfront recently.

I walked in the direction of the crowd. As I got closer, I could hear a woman's voice coming from what sounded like some old beat up speakers. I soon realised that it was a bullhorn. It seemed to be some sort of religious meeting that was going on, and the woman with the bullhorn was standing in the middle of a circle of people who seemed to be listening intently to what she was saying.

"Amen! Tell it like it is!" Someone shouted and the hands of about four persons went in the direction of the heavens. The woman with the bullhorn continued her sermon. "They may say all kinds of things about us but only God will judge us," she said, gesticulating wildly and swinging her hips to the rhythm of her words. This got a unified response from the small gathering. "Oh yes! Only God alone! Tell dem," the people shouted. They were gathered in the shade of a few trees and some of the group members were shading their eyes from the rays of the sun with their hands.

I stepped a bit closer. "And on that day it will be magnificent," the woman continued, but my attention was grabbed by a young woman at the back of the crowd in a miniskirt and high heels. Unlike the others in the crowd, she didn't seem very much enthused by what was going on in the centre of the circle and I even caught her yawning a few times. I stepped up to her and asked her what her problem was.

"Dis ting too long sometime. Mi only have few more minute and dem a chat it out," she said. I asked her why she didn't just leave since she was so annoyed. "You mad? Dis is God work. I not leaving until it done. You want lightning lick mi down and all manner a crosses tek mi over? Look yah man, just mind you business and low mi!" she quipped, and stormed off leaving me a bit puzzled. I was soon to find that I would get no more information there, so I walked off as the woman preacher in the centre of the circle was saying something about being washed with the power of something.

Just a few feet to my right, I noticed a man standing on some rocks facing the water, which was quite still. His bicycle was leaning on some rocks nearby.

The man was holding on to something that I couldn't quite make out. But then I saw him swing it behind his shoulders and back into the water and I realised that it was a fishing line. I looked further to my right and realised that he wasn't alone. About five other men on the same mission were scattered along the waterfront. They all had small igloos with them and seemed quite comfortable and skilled at what they were doing.

Face to face

A fisherman at the waterfront recently.

Standing close to the roadway and watching what was going on, I heard a voice behind me.

"So you a tek picture," the voice said. I turned around and came face to face with a bearded old man wearing a patch over his left eye. He looked like a pirate. The man was wearing a brown shirt and a pair of black pants. "Dis place nuh pretty again. When mi likkle and used to come out here and help di man dem pan di ship it used to pretty. Dat is when you shoulda come tek you picture. You used to have all kinda ship and marine soldier out here. All kinda ship. Now di place nuh really stay so again it still pretty," he said.

The man said that he used to have a jolly old time as a teenager travelling around to all the bars and clubs that were close to the waterfront. "Di place used to full a prostitute. Now you haffi search fi dem. Is a shame, but a so life go."

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com