Jolt of Strength From Jamaica

I just got back from spending more time with my good friend and colleague, Ivey Harris, at her home in Cornwall Barracks, high up in the John Crow Mountains of Jamaica. I’ve written about Ivey before… she’s the last of the traditional herbal healers in Jamaica’s Maroon culture.

Dr. Sears and Ivey Harris in Jamaica

In fact, Ivey is the seventh generation of her family to practice this nearly lost art. She’s a direct descendant of Princess Nanny, the first leader of the Windward Maroons. Princess Nanny was a renowned herbal healer, and is Jamaica’s only national heroine.

At just five feet tall, Ivey’s a tiny bundle of pure energy. She’s vivacious but has this calm way about her. And she always welcomes me with open arms every time I make the trek up the treacherous mountain roads leading to her remote home.

Piercing a 500-Year Veil

I steered my little Nissan rental car higher… deeper into Jamaica’s John Crow Mountains. S-curves and switchbacks emerged suddenly out of the sheets of blinding rain.

As the storm finally began to clear, I spotted a cluster of tin-roofed houses and tiny shops. I had reached my destination: the home of Jamaica’s last living Maroon healer, Ivelyn Harris.

For centuries, the Maroons have been among the world’s most skilled herbalists. With just the plants growing in their mountain home, their healers may have already conquered problems that still challenge modern medicine. For example, I’d heard stories that…

Jamaican Jungle Herbs

I just got back from my third trip to Jamaica this year, and I have some terrific news for you!

Back in March I told you about my first trip when I met Ivy Harris, a native Maroon healer. She introduced me to herbs that I had never heard of before: All Man’s Strength, Prone Bark, Black Wist, and Bachelor’s Buttons. The names describe what they do – give men potency and virility.

Is There a Jamaican ‘Blue Zone’?

The other day I was walking through the cemetery in Portland, Jamaica, when I noticed something interesting. We were there because the grandmother of my friend, A.D., had passed away. But I couldn’t help notice the grave markers. Everyone had lived into their 80s or 90s.