l have mentioned that l've considered returning to the
Rasta compound to attempt convincing them that it's
OK for them to sleep but, in the forty-plus years since
our visit, isn't it likely that one or another of their vis-
itors since then might already have accomplished what
l would have hoped to? And since l possess more than
a little proclivity to put my nose into situations not my
business....Back burner for that one; at least for now.
Probably the most fun Bob and l had on this whole trip
was the day, near the end of our stay, that we accom-
panied four Rasta Brothers to Kingston and back, via
the bus. We walked about three miles from the com-
pound to the nearest bus-stop, which was the furthest
stop from the downtown station. We were the only pas-
sengers for nearly the first half-hour of the trip, which
made the driver the only target for their sermons. He was
a veteran on the route and knew the Rastas individually.
That was apparent from the start. He knew the drill, in-
cluding the sermons, the chants, the songs and all the
rest. And until we were joined by other, non-Rasta pas-
sengers, he seemed one of us. l remember thinking that
he must be "with the show".(lt turns out, he was: At one
stop he got out of his seat to help an older man board &
l recognized him as someone with whom l'd spoken at a
night service a few days before). As our bus filled with
folks bound for Kingston and beyond his manner became
a little less that of someone participating in the service
brought aboard his bus by the Rastas and more that of
one providing the best service he could for all of his pas-
engers.
Of course, the Rastas welcomed each boarding passen-
ger with everything in their repetoire and they don't rest.
Well, at least not until every seat was taken and the
aisle was full of standees and even then, the Rastas
continue; talking to themselves and each other and in-
cluding everyone nearby. l was continually surprised at
how well-received the Rastas were: Often, what they
had to say to suspected sinners, l thought, bordered on
the abusive, and yet, reaction was usually smiling ad-
mission. The few who disagreed offered half-hearted ar-
guments or said nothing,probably like some who agreed.
But l never saw anyone get upset with any Rasta. What
l did see was people "joining up" with us as we walked
the streets of Kingston that day. Really, our little group
is moving in one direction as others move in the oppo-
site. So many folks abandon whatever errand brought
them out, to become part of ours, whatever it might be,
that when we boarded the bus to return to the com-
pound, there were perhaps fifty new friends among us.
Friends who might very well be seen soon at evening
services and maybe even become members of the
Rasta congregation. Of course, they are the only relig-
ious organization with cannabis as their sacrament
(with which they are very generous and for which they
will accept no remuneration). That could explain the
extent of their tolerance of the Rastas' shenanigans;
for my part, as long as l've smoked that stuff, l've al-
ways done my best to stay on the good side of whom-
ever happens to be my connection. Sometimes a "grin
and bear it" situation.
l can testify that going among the public in the company
of the Rastas is good stuff; constantly moving, preach-
ing, singing, dancing and delighting most of those they
meet, they're having so much fun, they're contagious.
Any one in the vicinity (save a few old grouches) is
almost certain to be infected. Bob and l figured that be-
ing with this group in public was probably like being in
the entourage of a star.
At that evening's service Bro. lvy surprised us with a
special service by which Bob and l were ordained as
Rasta priests. We agreed that it was a nice gesture on
his part and while Bro. lvy never used the word "honor-
ary" (nor did we) it was in that spirit that we accepted.
Afterward, we talked privately about the new develop-
ment. Half in jest, Bob said that Bro. lvy had co-opted
us; now we were a part of his organization (of which
Bro. lvy was the only true priest)and we were like...
chopped liver? Seriously though, what were his hopes
with regard to us? We had spent a lot of time trying
to identify how our visit to the Rastas in Jamaica
could be of benefit to all of us at Gates of Eden. But
we had given very little, if any thought to what the
Rastas might hope to benefit by their relationship with
us. Of course the ten percent of GoE selected to make
the trip(and maybe feeling a little guilty) sought a way
to make the ninety percent of GoE that was not select-
ed to feel better about it. Because of that, our focus
never fell on the motives possibly involved in Bro.lvy's
inviting us to visit. lf it had, l'm sure most of us (me
included) would have said that, having visited us, it's
natural for them to invite us to reciprocate. But Bro.
lvy had upped the ante by ordaining us. especially
considering that he had done so without so much as
mentioning what he intended to do before the service.
At that point our primary interest was in learning why
a couple of visitors from afar, about whom the Rastas
knew next to nothing, could qualify to be Rasta priests.
More accurately, Coptic priests of the Rastafarian order.
Yes, the Rastas are part of the Coptic church owing to
Marcus Garvey, an African-American industrialist of the
early 20th century and Haile Selassie, long-time
Emperor of Ethiopia, whose name at birth was Tafari
Makonnen and whom the Rastas worship asThe Mesiah.
Note that his first name is in the middle of the name
of the Rastafarian order.Pronounced rahs tah fah RYan.
l knew (and know) that l can only be what is within my
capabilities, and given them, no more than l desire to
be. l'm not even a good student of religion, let alone
a priest. l used my church charter (ULC #6054) to pro-
vide services in our neighborhood: food, shelter,
transportation,communication,counsel (personal or
city-savvy) escorted visits to psychedelia (and back!).
Access to GofE-held country properties (for kick back)
and a gang of loving people. You might see as many
as 50 people during a visit to GofE. About a third of
those would be residents and certainly able to provide
you with intake. The point here is that while being un-
comfortable with the word "proud" l would say that l
was not ashamed of my work there:First of all; we
were "single-payer" long before the media ever heard
the term. GofE paid for everything. The person re-
ceiving the services never had a co-pay. GofE's funds
came mostly from donations, some from our free store,
but mostly from donors who gave us a check every
month. Services were available 24/7. Two kitchens,one
macrobiotic and one "safeway" assured great food of
wide variety.Daily, one of our vans, which l often
drove, went to all the supermarkets within a couple
of miles of GofE and picked up stuff that had been
set aside for us. Folks from the neighborhood regularly
donated clothing, nick-nacks,furniture,art-work, you
name it. The two large flats that we had in the build-
ing were almost always occupied by "permanent" res-
idents so our over-niters had to make do with dormi-
tory-style bedding set up at nite in what were the
carpet work-rooms during the day. lt was warm and
comfy though and quiet, most times. We had several
cars/beaters. All our charges could either borrow one
of them or, if they were not licensed to drive, wait 'til
someone could drive them. Failing that, the "bus-jar"
could be tapped for a buck or two. With the fare, then
15 cents, you could go a ways on that much. Long
distance was a big deal in those days. (at least to
those down and out). ln our situation we could afford
to share the use of our phone. lf they chose, run-
away kids at GofE could phone their parents the mo-
ment they arrived. Everyone needed some counsel, es-
pecially in city-savvy:where, when and how to get what
you need, from the city, county, state or feds; the
specialty of one of our permees. A 14-yr-old man from
the near-bye neighborhood (no errors preceding) pro-
vided us (most of the time and at no cost) with the
very best psychedelics available. Most of the young ones
that found our door were more interested in psychedelics
than anything else, except perhaps just remaining free of
their parents. (Not many accepted the offer to call home).
Judging from my own experience l knew that people who
want to experience something new are going to. lf true,
possible harm could be limited (and was)by providing
premium-grade drugs and widely-experienced psyche-
delic travelers as guides for those on their first (or first
few)trips. Our usual ratio was three guides to one
newby. We never had anyone have a "bad trip" or any-
thing less than a wonderful experience.
So, as l've said, while we had no religious services at
GofE, what we did have in the way of services was well-
accepted and much appreciated by those we served and
if Bro. lvy was aware of the extent of our work he might
have seen us as legitimate candidates for the priest-
hood, but l doubt it.l had some idea what he might have
had in mind for us and l will get to that next time
End of Visit with Rastas in Jamaica 7
l did see was people "joining up" with us as we walked
the streets of Kingston that day. Really, our little group
is moving in one direction as others move in the oppo-
site. So many folks abandon whatever errand brought
them out, to become part of ours, whatever it might be,
that when we boarded the bus to return to the com-
pound, there were perhaps fifty new friends among us.
Friends who might very well be seen soon at evening
services and maybe even become members of the
Rasta congregation. Of course, they are the only relig-
ious organization with cannabis as their sacrament
(with which they are very generous and for which they
will accept no remuneration). That could explain the
extent of their tolerance of the Rastas' shenanigans;
for my part, as long as l've smoked that stuff, l've al-
ways done my best to stay on the good side of whom-
ever happens to be my connection. Sometimes a "grin
and bear it" situation.
l can testify that going among the public in the company
of the Rastas is good stuff; constantly moving, preach-
ing, singing, dancing and delighting most of those they
meet, they're having so much fun, they're contagious.
Any one in the vicinity (save a few old grouches) is
almost certain to be infected. Bob and l figured that be-
ing with this group in public was probably like being in
the entourage of a star.
At that evening's service Bro. lvy surprised us with a
special service by which Bob and l were ordained as
Rasta priests. We agreed that it was a nice gesture on
his part and while Bro. lvy never used the word "honor-
ary" (nor did we) it was in that spirit that we accepted.
Afterward, we talked privately about the new develop-
ment. Half in jest, Bob said that Bro. lvy had co-opted
us; now we were a part of his organization (of which
Bro. lvy was the only true priest)and we were like...
chopped liver? Seriously though, what were his hopes
with regard to us? We had spent a lot of time trying
to identify how our visit to the Rastas in Jamaica
could be of benefit to all of us at Gates of Eden. But
we had given very little, if any thought to what the
Rastas might hope to benefit by their relationship with
us. Of course the ten percent of GoE selected to make
the trip(and maybe feeling a little guilty) sought a way
to make the ninety percent of GoE that was not select-
ed to feel better about it. Because of that, our focus
never fell on the motives possibly involved in Bro.lvy's
inviting us to visit. lf it had, l'm sure most of us (me
included) would have said that, having visited us, it's
natural for them to invite us to reciprocate. But Bro.
lvy had upped the ante by ordaining us. especially
considering that he had done so without so much as
mentioning what he intended to do before the service.
At that point our primary interest was in learning why
a couple of visitors from afar, about whom the Rastas
knew next to nothing, could qualify to be Rasta priests.
More accurately, Coptic priests of the Rastafarian order.
Yes, the Rastas are part of the Coptic church owing to
Marcus Garvey, an African-American industrialist of the
early 20th century and Haile Selassie, long-time
Emperor of Ethiopia, whose name at birth was Tafari
Makonnen and whom the Rastas worship asThe Mesiah.
Note that his first name is in the middle of the name
of the Rastafarian order.Pronounced rahs tah fah RYan.
l knew (and know) that l can only be what is within my
capabilities, and given them, no more than l desire to
be. l'm not even a good student of religion, let alone
a priest. l used my church charter (ULC #6054) to pro-
vide services in our neighborhood: food, shelter,
transportation,communication,counsel (personal or
city-savvy) escorted visits to psychedelia (and back!).
Access to GofE-held country properties (for kick back)
and a gang of loving people. You might see as many
as 50 people during a visit to GofE. About a third of
those would be residents and certainly able to provide
you with intake. The point here is that while being un-
comfortable with the word "proud" l would say that l
was not ashamed of my work there:First of all; we
were "single-payer" long before the media ever heard
the term. GofE paid for everything. The person re-
ceiving the services never had a co-pay. GofE's funds
came mostly from donations, some from our free store,
but mostly from donors who gave us a check every
month. Services were available 24/7. Two kitchens,one
macrobiotic and one "safeway" assured great food of
wide variety.Daily, one of our vans, which l often
drove, went to all the supermarkets within a couple
of miles of GofE and picked up stuff that had been
set aside for us. Folks from the neighborhood regularly
donated clothing, nick-nacks,furniture,art-work, you
name it. The two large flats that we had in the build-
ing were almost always occupied by "permanent" res-
idents so our over-niters had to make do with dormi-
tory-style bedding set up at nite in what were the
carpet work-rooms during the day. lt was warm and
comfy though and quiet, most times. We had several
cars/beaters. All our charges could either borrow one
of them or, if they were not licensed to drive, wait 'til
someone could drive them. Failing that, the "bus-jar"
could be tapped for a buck or two. With the fare, then
15 cents, you could go a ways on that much. Long
distance was a big deal in those days. (at least to
those down and out). ln our situation we could afford
to share the use of our phone. lf they chose, run-
away kids at GofE could phone their parents the mo-
ment they arrived. Everyone needed some counsel, es-
pecially in city-savvy:where, when and how to get what
you need, from the city, county, state or feds; the
specialty of one of our permees. A 14-yr-old man from
the near-bye neighborhood (no errors preceding) pro-
vided us (most of the time and at no cost) with the
very best psychedelics available. Most of the young ones
that found our door were more interested in psychedelics
than anything else, except perhaps just remaining free of
their parents. (Not many accepted the offer to call home).
Judging from my own experience l knew that people who
want to experience something new are going to. lf true,
possible harm could be limited (and was)by providing
premium-grade drugs and widely-experienced psyche-
delic travelers as guides for those on their first (or first
few)trips. Our usual ratio was three guides to one
newby. We never had anyone have a "bad trip" or any-
thing less than a wonderful experience.
So, as l've said, while we had no religious services at
GofE, what we did have in the way of services was well-
accepted and much appreciated by those we served and
if Bro. lvy was aware of the extent of our work he might
have seen us as legitimate candidates for the priest-
hood, but l doubt it.l had some idea what he might have
had in mind for us and l will get to that next time
End of Visit with Rastas in Jamaica 7
