We ate breakfast, did our personal bible studies by ourselves then we all flooded into the dreaded, tiny buses again. As we road down the same bumpy roads I watched out the window as civilians walked by. We traveled into the inner city of Harmons Jamaica. I remember our guide talking about how the inner city was for the outcasts, the broken, the sick, and the lost that were never found. I compared it to our cities back home; how that our cities were for the rich and powerful. The people I have always wanted to grow up to be. But here no one wanted to be like the people who lived in the city. We pass many people on the streets with no shoes on, trash everywhere with the orange ground peeking through like a partly cloudy