The staff gave us invaluable suggestions for experiencing "the real Jamaica," which most tourists never see. Sadie Heaven, the laundress, encouraged us to visit a local school, saying that the students would get a huge kick out of meeting American children. She even suggested a route along the back roads of St. James Parish. We made our way to St. Mary's Preparatory School in Montpelier, where the exquisitely polite, blue-uniformed children immediately took Charlie and Doug by the hand, showed them every corner of every classroom, and played with them for an hour in the schoolyard. Naomi, our cook, took me to Montego Bay's rustic green market, where tourists never go, and introduced me to tropical produce I'd never heard of: cho-cho, callaloo, dashine, naseberries, custard apples, and much more. She then worked them into local dishes so we could properly appreciate them and taught us how to make potato pudding (a local dessert), sorrel drink (a cranberry-red Christmas refreshment), and the Jamaican national dish, salt fish and ackee.

Naomi also took me to Sunday morning worship at her church, the historic Parish Church of St. James, built in 1775. The Anglican service, as it turned out, is a two-and-a-half-hour event at which community announcements are made and "Happy Birthday" is sung to parishioners who are celebrating. Midway through the service, everyone mills around the church and socializes. (I was surprised, given Jamaica's crime problem, to see the women leave their purses behind on their seats without a care.) Tears and empathy filled St. James when the rector called attention to a devastated family whose teenage daughter had been beaten and stabbed to death a week earlier in their home. After the service, Naomi introduced me to the rector, who thanked me for coming and gave me a hug, and to her friends in the Mothers' Union, a Christian organization that supports families—who wore all white and sat in the front pews. (You can read more about our Jamaica experiences on my blog; go to "Topics Covered" and click on "Jamaica.")

What was most rewarding about our villa rental was that it got us inside a country that many tourists, who are gated off in resort compounds, never see: an authentic Jamaica that is friendly and safe. I got closer to its people staying in one spot for a week than I did several years ago when I rented a car for two weeks and crisscrossed the entire island. Don't just take it from me, though. Bienvenue's guest book is filled with remarks such as "We feel such bonds of friendship with these kind people" (from an Illinois family) and "More beautiful, more peaceful, more memorable than we ever imagined" (from a group from Tennessee). My favorite comment was from a Boca Raton family: "One of the best vacations of our lives (and we've been everywhere)! Val, Naomi, Elaine, Sadie, and Melvin showed us what it means to live in paradise. Thanks to them, we got to know the real Jamaican life, and we loved it." So did I.