Reggae Is a New Bag: Kingston Streets, Kingston Nights

I didn’t choose the battered taxi that slowed down on a dark corner in Kingston, Jamaica’s unkempt capital city, because it looked less battered than any of the others that were cruising with little optimism through the shadowy streets, searching for passengers like me. I couldn’t even see enough under the dim streetlamps to tell if the seats were torn and broken, as they were in some of the cabs. The driver looked younger than most of the others, and his anxious face had a hopeful expression, and that was enough for me to hold up my hand for him