Miss Joan working on a hearty meal in Mango Valley, St. Mary. - Photos by Robert Lalah

In a tiny kitchen in a quaint community called Mango Valley in St. Mary, Miss Joan, a short, plump woman wearing a black hat, striped blouse, a pair of shorts and gold earrings, was getting a little peeved. She was standing in front of the sink with a knife in one hand and a green banana in the other. Miss Joan was using the knife to scrape the banana and there was a container filled with water and other unpeeled bananas in front of her. She kept dipping the banana into the water and taking it back out, making a splashing sound with every dip.

"All these young girls want to do these days is to dress up with long fingernails and pretty clothes! None of them think that dem need to learn how to cook. I don't know what is wrong with them," she said, digging deep into the banana with the knife as if taking out some of her aggression on the fruit.

"All dem think about is fast food. Dem don't realise dat it not good for dem. Too much grease. It going to kill dem off," she muttered, looking over at me like she was seeking some support. "I ... ah ...," I said before she cut me off again.

"I don't know how dem expect to keep a husband. Dat poor man must dead fi hungry or get ulcer! Hee Hee! Either dat or him spend out all of him money pan food," she chuckled.

"Is true man!" I heard someone behind me exclaim, and I turned to face a rather large woman in a pink blouse and blue hat. "Dat is one ting dat my granny teach me from me was likkle. We haffi learn how fi cook!" she shouted, making her way into the kitchen.

Fast food and money

This doesn't happen everywhere! Men giving free labour in Mango Valley.

"All dem young girls want to do these days is fi dress up inna tall fingernail and bore dem mouth tongue and eye side! Dem nuh want to learn how fi cook food and peel banana. All dem want is fast food and money." The woman gave her name as Yvonne and then turned to me, looking me up and down as if sizing me up for something.

"You married?" she finally asked in a more gentle tone. I told her I wasn't and she came a step closer. I felt a trickle of sweat run down the side of my face.

"Listen to me," the weighty woman said, resting her hand on my shoulder.

"You need a strong St. Mary woman inna you life fi cook fi you. Dem town woman deh ago bruk you pocket and mek you get bad stomach. St. Mary woman will take care a you and mek sure dat yuh belly full every night," she said and then chuckled heartily.

Much to my relief, Miss Joan spoke up. "Nobody can cook like a St. Mary woman either. Like dis banana. You haffi know how to handle it or it give you pure trouble. You have to drop a little vinegar in the pot and in the basin when you peeling it so that it don't come out black. You also have to drop piece of the skin in the pot with it. Dat is di trick. When you peeling it you just have to rub some cooking oil or salt on yuh hand and that will stop it from staining," Miss Joan said, holding up a bottle of oil as a visual aid.

I asked the women to tell me a bit about Mango Valley. "Well is a very peaceful community. The only time noise mek is when dem bwoy turn up di music box dem loud. But otherwise from dat it very quiet and peaceful," Yvonne said.

The women told me that about 8,000 people live in Mango Valley and that most of them are farmers. "Well I am a farmer too," Miss Joan said, smiling. "Yes man! I plant my banana and dis and dat. My husband is a farmer too. Everybody try to do what dem can fi survive and everybody help each other out," she added, while peering through a window. A pot on the stove behind her started to bubble over and Yvonne walked over to it and removed the cover. "Right now we cooking for some gentlemen who helping to build up the community centre. They live in Mango Valley so dem giving dem time to help build up di place. Dem not getting any money for it, but dat is how we live here. Dem helping out and we cooking for dem. Everybody help each other," Miss Joan said.

I looked out the window and saw about five or six men working with cement and stones. They were smiling and joking as they worked. "If everybody lived like this it would be better," Yvonne said and Miss Joan gave an approving nod of the head.

robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com