Surprisingly late on the scene, Jamaica is hosting its first ever yoga conference this weekend featuring the likes of everyone’s favorite conscious yogini, Sean Corn, as well as everyone’s favorite easy-listening “East meets West” DJ, MC Yogi.
Some words of advice to all the attendees:
- Visiting Trenchtown will not be a “fun” “cultural” “experience” just because you like Bob Marley. The trip will turn especially interesting when a gang of sixteen-year-olds in criss jeans brandish a shiv in yr back.
- Please avoid getting your hair braided while you are there. We are going to giggle when you come back.
- If you are being called a “batty bwoy,” it doesn’t mean someone wants to play baseball with you. (Jamaicans largely prefer cricket). Although, if Buju Banton had his way, it may mean that said person literally wants to play baseball with you (as in use you as the ball).
- Dear white girls, maybe don’t pay for sex with gorgeous muscular salon-dreaded black men just because you can afford it.
But, let’s be honest. Whenever you hear about a yoga retreat in Jamaica, what’s the first thing that comes to mind? You know it’s not palm trees. Probably not even Bob Marley. And, probably very few of you have every eaten a bread fruit, so it can’t be that.
Hmmmm…. Could it be something a little whackier? A little tackier? Maybe it makes you a little paranoid that the world is ending?
That’s right. It’s John Stamos in a pink tanktop playing a steel drum on the beach while very young girls swoon over very old Beach Boys.