It was Dec. 22, around 3:45 a.m. “Turi! Get up now! We’ve got a flight to catch at 5 a.m. wake up!” I felt awful: hung-over and exhausted. It wasn’t until we boarded the plane that my angered facial expression changed. Usually around this time of year my family and I would be heading to Fort Lauderdale, Fla. to stay with my grandmother for the holidays. I hate this because it disrupts the tradition of being belligerent with my friends for the three-week break.

This year, things were going to be different. Our final destination was not Fort Lauderdale, but instead a five-day cruise to Jamaica and the Cayman Islands.

I looked forward to visiting Jamaica the most because of my interest in reggae and Jamaican culture.

We arrived in Fort Lauderdale at around 10:00 a.m. and hung out on the beach for the rest of the day. The following morning, we boarded Royal Caribbean’s ship Enchantment of the Seas. The ship was unbelievable. It had 11 floors, six bars, three pools, a buffet, a casino and a tremendous amount of food.

At 5:00 p.m. we left the Lauderdale port and steamed toward Jamaica. When we stepped into the city of Ocho Rios, it was unlike anything I had experienced. My family and I were bombarded with Jamaican residents trying to sell us souvenirs, including necklaces, wooden carvings and other touristy objects. Dale, our tour guide for the day, was waiting for us among the crowd.

First, Dale took us through Dunn’s Falls, where we enjoyed the waterfall’s beautiful scenery. Some chose to hike to the top. From there, he brought us to Fern Gulley, which was a narrow road that leads to Kingston, the capital city.

Next we went to Nine Mile, the mountains where Bob Marley was born. This was particularly interesting to me because I enjoy dance hall and roots reggae.

The people of the mountain were much more laid back and less intense than those in the city of Ocho Rios – they didn’t force us to buy souvenirs.

While my parents enjoyed Red Stripe at a random bar on top of the mountain, I sat on a slate wall with a man I just met. He turned to me and asked: “Well mon, do ya smoke?” He passed me a joint and I took a pull on it. He then muttered, “In Jamaica, mon, we have no problems.” That moment may have been one of the highlights of my trip.

We ate lunch at an amazing restaurant called Margaritaville, which was right on the beach. While we waited to eat, my brother and I decided to take a walk on the beach. As we were walking, three men appeared from behind a stonewall that ran along the beach. They asked us if we wanted to buy any marijuana and when we turned that down, they offered to sell me a necklace for eight dollars. I said I had no money, but I would come back after I ate and give them a couple dollars to take a picture with me.

When I returned, they offered me the necklace again. I said I only had a couple dollars that I would give them to take a picture with me.

One man said, “Empty your pockets mon, you’re lying. You have more than two dollars.” I refused to empty my pockets and said I would pay them to take some pictures or leave. They reluctantly agreed to the pictures.

This was one very distinct cultural aspect of Jamaica: throughout the day my family and I were offered drugs and cheap souvenirs.

As the day was coming to an end, I kept thinking what an intense five hours it had been. Jamaica is overrun with lush vegetation, crystal clear water and poverty.

I’ll never forget the people swarming around me trying to persuade me to buy a pack of rolling paper for $15, or the little boy who chased me as I walked back toward the cruise ship, begging me to spare him one dollar. The people were so poor and desperate.

From Jamaica, we were supposed to head to the Cayman Islands, but due to bad weather, we were redirected to Key West, Fla.

While in Key West, we browsed the gift shops, enjoyed the beautiful weather and ate at an excellent restaurant on the water. That was the last day of our last stop, and the next morning we docked in Fort Lauderdale.