＃６

“Of the 12 or 15 Jamaicans working the orchard that August, none hardly complained — apple picking’s kinder than cut cane or tomato, and we worked the cider press until late most nights, the migrants being curfewed by law. A sink and stove and poorly-springed bed was comfortable lodging compared to the Floridian camps, though in mutual ceasefire we never chat wages. I could tell by the supervisor’s eyes I vexed him: how I joshed the other hands over store-bought beers and campfire, but only answered him most courteously and succinctly. Truth told, I’ve no taste for management. The shantytown Jamaicans, living by their palms and wits, felt closer kin than my own.”

With thanks to:
An Archaeology of Social Space: Analyzing Coffee Plantations in Jamaica’s Blue Mountains - James A. Delle (1998)