Walking through the Kingston market you smell incense, soap and fresh fruits and garbage. You hear the yelling of men selling body stretch dresses, trucks honking and patois chatter through out the streets. Headed there from the National Gallery I thought to myself "i gotta check my google map to make sure i find the market" and in the blink of an eye I was in the midst of the storm. The storm of hustlers, sellers, buyers, men making up songs to sell their merchandise in the middle of the street as trucks honk for them to get the hell out of the way and women selling their fresh produce they got that morning. Sweet sweet smells of sugar cane, coconut and mango in hard contrast to trash and sewage. Old paint over concert walls, hand painted store signs, rusted steel sheets covering gaps in walls and beautiful beautiful Jamaica.