GOD’S WELL, ARTEFACTS AND TAINOS
ILEFT Kingston with some friends on Saturday, April 21, feeling very excited. I was on my way to see God’s Well, located in the Canoe Valley of Clarendon and south Manchester, with some people I met two years ago.
They said they are “Arawak Indian (Taino)” and I have no reason not to believe them. In fact, I am intrigued by their claim, because for years I could not accept that they were all dead.
So, with water, ‘blue drawers’, and mangoes we set out, I hoping to find a story to tell, and I got more than I had thought about. Well!
God’s Well in Clarendon, not far from the border with Manchester, was the big surprise. I had heard that the path leading to it is rugged, and for years it has been eluding me. So, when the opportunity to see it finally came, I seized it.
The road was rocky, all right, but it was flat land, good. No precipices. On either side of the narrow path there were trees with thorny, slender branches. My colleagues walked ahead of me as I am a leisurely walker. What’s the rush for?
Though I was told the trek was 10-minute long, we seemed to have got there faster. When I caught up with them, they stood at the edge of a massive hole with trees around it. I paused, for I had looked beyond them and saw a sheer drop of a mountain on the side of the crater. I looked up and
vertigo swirled in. I could not believe it.
I edged closer to them holding my camera tightly, until I saw green water way down in the hole. My knowledge of geography chipped in. It looked like a massive sinkhole, part of a subterranean water system. Looking down was as dizzying as looking up. Nevertheless, I took some shots, until the lightheadedness intensified.
The post-tour research confirmed my thoughts. It is indeed a sinkhole “most probably produced by the collapse of a limestone roof over a major underground cavern. “The
opening is oval and measures between 25 and 40 metres in diameter – has near-vertical walls and the distance from the top of the depression to the water level below is approximately 25 metres,” says a report in The Journal of the Geological Society of
Jamaica, Volume 33, page 31- 41. From God’s Well we walked back to Alligator Hole en route to Alligator Pond. And there was not even one alligator in sight. We don’t have gator in Jamaica, only crocs.
At Alligator Pond, I was again fascinated by the black and greyish sparkling sands and the big scavenger birds that swooped down to gobble up fish entrails tossed into the sea. Yet, the overall sight of the fishing village was most unflattering, so we pressed on.
Then, it was unspeakable joy when I saw Taino clay pot and pipe remnants at a spot where an elderly farmer brought us. I was beside myself, as I have always wanted to find such a spot. There were several remnants lying on top of the red soil. Yet, in all of this, what I still cannot get over is the blue turtle painting on one of the little clay pieces. Why? One of the pendants I wore that day is that of the image of a turtle. Coincidence or ancestral energy?
There was more joy when I chanced upon Raslin ‘Ogo’ Gordon, one of the Arawak (Taino) people I was hoping to see. When he realised I was the person he met sometime ago, he hugged me tightly and laughed. It was like re-uniting with a long-lost brother. He then brought us to some other people who said they have Taino ancestry, and there was more laughter and learning.
We left the area as the sun was setting over Lover’s Leap, only to find out along the way back to Kingston that we would have to sleep in the vehicle until daylight. But nothing could spoil that day of blue drawers, mangoes, God’s Well, artefacts and Arawak Indians.