Hi. I love Jamaica. I adopted a son. The island is stunningly beautiful, the people marvelous, the food beyond description, the poverty heartbreaking. One on one, there's no anti-gay sentiment, though every man I talked to assured me there are no gay men in Jamaica. I laughed. They did too. They love lesbians, by the way. The thought of lesbians not being interested in men who might be watching was disconcerting to them. I got trapped in an underwater room of coral. Mike and I were almost swept out to sea while snorkeling in the deep. We were hijacked by a hustler in the market at 11 p.m. Marijuana smoke is everywhere ~ you catch the scent on the breeze like incense from a headshop. We took an 18 mile bicycle trip in the blue mountains, then refreshed ourselves in a pool beneath a waterfall. We saw a rock fight between two men. A voodoo house in the mountains was shiver-inducing divine. The coffee is magnificent and women pick it at $9 per 90 pound crate, a day's work. For retirement, people just "go to the bush" ~ go live in the mountains under a tree. School is not free for children. I didn't talk politics much at all, but met some Dutch people who told me everyone in Holland thinks George Bush planned 9/11. There is no real milk, all powdered. No cream. Butter is rare. We ate a dozen rock lobsters from a fisherman's beach while wasted Rastafarians snugged in the roots of a huge tree nodded and smiled at us. Ginger beer is addictive. Fried plantain dumplings are luscious. I love Jamaica. My son is precious. Sadly, I have to work now. Can't wait to catch up with all of you.