11 September 2006

Finally, Jamaica pictures

From when I went to Jamaica with J in June. I know, I know, I'm late as always.

J had a corporate retreat at Beaches Boscobel in Jamaica, and he was allowed to bring a +1. His brother couldn't go, and for some reason, he thought of me even though we've spoken maybe twice in the past year.

J


(Let me digress: J's a flake. After he had cancelled and stood me up several times, I had to reevaluate whether it was worth staying in touch. We weren't really friends, so would it make a difference if we kept in touch or not? After he stood me up for the second time in just as many weeks and then called the following day to apologize, I expressed those thoughts to him, and we sort of stopped talking... I forgot about the whole incident and never expected to hear from him again except that six months later, he called me out of the blue. He had broken up with his gf, taken care of some personal matters, and wanted to apologize for being a flake. These days, we occasionally email, but that's about the extent of our interaction. Which brings me back to why it was so weird to get invited to Jamaica. The funny thing is...J and I have gone back to the occasional email or text message but haven't spoken or hung out since we've returned. I guess he just wanted a friend to tag along...)

We were in Montego Bay, near Ochos Rio. It seemed to be a resort strip -- Ritz Carlton, Sandals, Beaches, Renaissance, you name them, they were there. Everything was super luxe, all inclusive. The resort grounds were beautiful.

Beaches Boscobel and our friendly bartender Geoffrey. Geoffrey made a point to tell us that his name was spelled with a "G." He was one of my favorite members of the staff at the resort.


The beach at Beaches Boscobel is small. It's fake, as the coastline is rocky so the resort shipped in sand to make a beach. Even stranger, however, was that the beach was walled off on both sides where the hotel property ended. I think it was to keep people out. I noticed that the locals clustered along those walls, panhandling, calling out with offers to braid hair, trying to draw attention to the trinkets they had for sale, etc.

Since J was there for a work function, I had time to get to know some of the staffers at the resort; they were all very friendly. They seem to genuinely enjoy their jobs. However, my sense from speaking to them was that the resorts all took care of the property within resort grounds, but beyond that, did very little in terms of employee benefits, environmental stewardship or public service.

J and I hired a car to take us into town, and once we left the resort, we noticed the disparity between the haves and have-nots. On one end of the spectrum were the multi-million dollar homes along the water (our driver hinted at drug money), the all-inclusive 4/5 star resorts with the well kept grounds, and the exclusive golf courses. On the other end of the spectrum was Jamaica for Jamaicans.

Beyond the resort walls, Jamaica felt...angry. Women hawked trinkets and crafts, cursing tourists under their breath once they walked away. The men were sullen. There was a lot of standing or sitting around -- drinking and smoking. We passed quite a few shanty bars. Shanty homes.

The area reeked of economic depression, pollution, corruption, and all the unfortunate side effects of developing countries. The lack of economic opportunities coupled with the easy access of alcohol and drugs created an environment that felt oppressive, making the anger even more palatable.

Me, in Ocho Rios


Local award winning artist. The name escapes me. J bought the painting. All the paintings this artist did were abstracts of people without faces. I noted to him that it was fortunate all his subjects wore some form of headdress otherwise he'd be in trouble. He agreed.


That's not to say that there weren't Jamaicans making good lives for themselves. In the town market, I met some local artists that took pride in their work and showed love for their island. J and I bought paintings and crafts from some of those artists.

We were there during the World Cup, and some enterprising soul had rigged a TV in the town square. Local men had gathered around to watch football, smoke, drink Red Stripe, and socialize. As this was the first time I'd witnessed a group of Jamaican men being happy and social, I started to take pictures. One of them became increasingly incensed and yelled at me, "No pictures!"

I wonder if Jamaica would be different if it was easier for Jamaicans to help themselves -- if multinationals operating resorts in the area felt a greater sense of responsibility and ownership towards the country and its people. Multinational firms would be able to do a lot for Jamaica at relatively little cost -- fund local schools, begin environmental initiatives, provide job training programs, and set examples as leaders in the community. In the Ochos Rio / Montego Bay area, they didn't seem to be doing much in terms of giving back to the community.

As a Jamaican, I'd be angry if I felt that the best parts of my island were being exploited for the use of wealthy foreigners while I was left with the castoffs. And, the island truly is beautiful.

One of the highlights of our trip was Dunns River Falls, which was absolutely gorgeous. It felt great to climb up a gently sloping waterfall of cold clear water while looking out at the white sand and blue water of the Caribbean.

Another fun part of our trip was when we swam and snorkeled with Sting Rays at Sting Ray City. The Sting Rays were so tame that as I walked into the water, they would swim against my leg because they were curious and wanted to check me out. I especially liked the female rays -- they were twice as big as the males, more tame, and very social. It was obvious that the trainers at the facility really loved marine life and cared about the Sting Rays -- they knew them by name and seemed to have their favorites.

Some of the locals in the Ocho Rios town market. I took a lot of pictures of people, since I'm always curious about local culture. After a while, every picture of a white sand, blue water beach starts to look the same. (Also, I don't have the proper camera lens for landscapes. ) :-)




Finally, let's not forget about the food. I love spicy food, and I used the five days we were there as an excuse to sample all things jerk. Jerk chicken, jerk burgers, jerk pork -- it was great! I sampled the Jamaican national dish of Ackee and Saltfish for breakfast, which was an acquired taste. Our driver took us to a local fast food place where I sampled beef and veggie patties. Everything was delicious, but the jerk was still my favorite. :-)

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