The highlight of my visit to Livingston was meeting a local Rasta known as the Lobster. He was the man who took me to my hostel and helped me to haggle for the best price.
He kept saying that in his place, I would pay less and have gorgeous garden with the birds waking me up...hmmm. I really did not fancy the idea of living "a bit far from the town" in the forest with Rasta, but I accepted his invitation for dinner, and it was the greatest decision of my life…
He bought few things on the way, and we soon disappeared into the forest; suddenly, a wooden shelter appeared in front of us. "That’s my house," he said before pointing to the jungle, "and that is my garden." I tried to persuade him that it was not a garden but a jungle, with little success. He took off his clothes and went down to the stream, stood on the stone, and started pouring water over himself: "Bath is important."
Then he ran around the garden, gathering wood for the fire and picking spices before starting to cook. Dinner was really tasty. Are you worried about hygiene? Don’t be. I have never seen such a carefully prepared dinner. He has a system of bowls, to wash everything without wasting a drop of water (after washing the dishes, he poured the water over the flowers in the garden).
After the dinner, we lay in hammocks and talked, and he explained to me that he doesn’t put the plants in the ground yet, as the moon is not right, and all the other things which will be done when the moon is right.
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Unfortunately, night came really soon, and the romance was over with the invasion of mosquitoes. He swore that fire would make them go away, but I did not want to take the risk. You, however, still have your chance. Buy mosquito repellent and stay with him for a few nights, and after that, your heart will just not be the same ever again.