THE EDITOR, Sir:
I know exactly what Carolyn Cooper talked about in her column 'Culture clash at Bath Fountain' (Sunday Gleaner, November 8, 2015).
A few years ago, I had to run through the same phalanx of so-called tour guides, but not before evading some harassers at Bath Botanic Garden.
I took some young relatives from Kingston who had never been to Bath Fountain, and, as I pulled up at the hotel entrance, suddenly I was surrounded by a swarm of young men.
To cut a long story short, when it was time to pay up, hordes of young men descended on me. After much wheeling and dealing, I managed to escape their clutches after paying them a US$20 ransom. One of my young female relatives, who grew up in the tough and turbulent part of Windward Road, told them some real Jamaican 'bad wud', so they didn't even dream of messing with her.
Now, I had lived in Morant Bay for some time, and used to go to Bath Fountain in the 1980s; it wasn't the way it is now, with all these pirates and sharks surrounding the area and accosting visitors.
Sad to say, so much of our Jamaican society - the young men, in particular - have become so coarse. This was what the late Florizel Glasspole used to lament: the undisciplined nature our people.
Not long after this hot baptism at Bath Fountain, I went down to Bob Marley's Mausoleum at Nine Miles, St Ann. Soon as I approached the outside of Bob's shrine, a whole heap a Rastaman dem swarm mi. Even as I drove off, the vultures were chasing me in the car up the hill.
To be frank with you, I dread going to these places. But if and when I pluck up bravery to go again, I will operate differently. Like, take no money with me. Park my car a good way off, and come dress like a poor old thing. Hopefully, I might then elicit pity from these highwaymen.
GEORGE GARWOOD