In November 2011, my husband and I took a trip to Jamaica. We stayed at a resort and enjoyed the typical resort vacation--plenty of food, sun, sand and booze. I took plenty of photos and had a great time, but my favorite part of the vacation was actually the time we spent outside of the resort.
From Montego Bay, we had a 90 minute drive to Whitehouse, Jamaica. It was a bumpy, pothole-filled 90 minutes through breathtakingly windy roads with sharp drop-offs. Our driver made sure to point out little bits and pieces of information and sights along the way. I was amazed at how beautiful the countryside was, but also amazed at how under-developed and third world Jamaica actually is. I absolutely went into the trip thinking about it as a vacation to a tropical island while all of my friends were stuck in cooler temperatures. I left realizing that Jamaicans lead a life much simpler than mine, and perhaps I should examine my life a little more and be more grateful for what I do have.
I saw homes that were halfway built, cinder blocks towering, crawling with vines, obviously untouched for years. There were shacks on the side of the road--some of them were homes, and some of them were businesses. I saw people--tons of people--just trying to make a living, trying to get by, and smiling so much that I imagined their cheeks hurt. I felt such a sense of joy coming from them that I couldn't even put it into words. I started to wonder about these people, each and every one of them. They had to have a story, and I wanted to hear it.
On our way back to the resort after a long day out visiting some local attractions (Appleton Rum Factory, anyone?!), our driver stopped at a roadside stand so we could sample some of the honey bananas and pineapple. That stand is where I snapped these photos:
Hindsight is always 20/20, they say. I missed a huge opportunity to learn about this sweet family. The only thing I can remember in the short few minutes I spoke to them is that the girl's name is Petra, and we bought a bottle of jerk sauce from their mama, and her son has a beautiful, joyful smile. These [almost] nameless faces inspired me to start this project...The Face Between. There's a story--probably many of them--that go with those faces, and those stories might be otherwise untold. It also makes me wonder how many of the people in my life have stories that they aren't telling, or have never had the opportunity to tell. I bet it everyone stopped to ask, or listen, you'd learn a thing or two about the people around you.
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