People over here in the Bahamas drive on the left side of the road. This was a British tradition made a law in 1620 because wearing a sword made it hard to get on a horse except on the left side and slicing and dicing the object of your road-rage was earie if both met right to right side. Bahamians don’t have many swords; don’t think there has even been a stone one found in the ruins of their ancient temples. It’s hard to buy a pocket knife over here. It always amazes me that the people over here are negroes. They don’t talk, dress, or act like the negroes in the States. The children are all neatly dressed alike at the schools and I have yet to hear of one of them cutting down their classmates with an uzi. Most of the people here have jobs. They live in neat houses and drive nice cars and there isn’t a Walmart on the island anywhere. Gas stations still have attendants and you tip them for filling your tank and they appreciate it. These people are not descendants of indigenous people; they are people that were destined for the slave markets in America and for what-ever reason, the slavers decided that they were not very marketable so they just dropped them off here rather than throwing them over-board. Nothing grows here but they managed to survive on what the sea could provide them. They kept one of their African ceremonial traditions, the Junkanoo. They dress up like chickens and dance to a drum beat; tourists seem to enjoy it. This is a Black country, owned and operated by black people and only sixty miles from the U.S. and they are a world apart from the blacks that I grew up with at home. There is not much crime here. There is very little poverty. Race issues are virtually non-existent. You can smell cracked conch cooking everywhere. I do not believe that 70% of the young men here ever go to jail, like in the United States. There has never been a civil rights movement here; no need for it. There is no marching or rioting and most of the folks would wonder what Rodney King did to deserve getting his ass kicked by those policemen. The police here do not even carry guns most of the time. They wear uniforms proudly and smartly and look like police officers, not soldiers and people still respect them and ask them for help. It is not unusual to buy one of them lunch and talk about where to get the best crawfish. They are proud of their country and they damned well should be.