BlackMan Time

Archive for May, 2007

Few sensations are as depressing as arriving back in England after a holiday in Jamaica. It’s not just the weather which is depressing: it’s the feeling that you are entering a place where the collective forces of institutional racism, the weather, public transport and the police all seem to conspire to get on your very last nerve.

It’s one thing when as a BlackMan you’re in a majority Black Country and having a feeling of total contentment with the fact that 70% of the locals share your race and culture. It is totally another when you are a minority in a white country which sometimes doesn’t let you forget you're a minority in that land. This is what hit me as I landed and set foot back in England!

The first sight that dampened my spirits was the miserable grey skies and the steady drizzle which seemed like a metaphor of someone urinating all over me.

The second thing that frayed my nerves was two heavily armed policemen with sniffer dogs who seemed to let their dogs loose in my path as if they suspected I was carrying some kind of illegal substance in my suitcase. I cannot tell you how much that got on my nerve. All I could say sotto voce (under my breath but loud enough for them to hear) was “Oh puhleeze! Give me a break!”

I can actually hear the voices of racist people advising me that if I don’t like England I should “eff off” back to my own country. Believe me, the way how I feel sometimes that is such a wonderful idea!

I met a really delightful pair of women yesterday while waiting for my delayed flight from Jamaica to England. It was certainly an enjoyable experience and at least it helped to pass the time as the flight was over an hour late.

Woman one, let’s call her L, was a very serious, business-minded woman whose occasionally stern face mask a charitable heart and a very sociable persona.

Woman two, let’s call her J, by contrast had a very sunny disposition and when she smiled or laughed her eyes seemed to promise much more than they should, given the fact that we had just met!

J and I got along like a house on fire and the short time we chatted it seem like we have known each other for a very long time indeed. It’s really funny how this happens: that you can meet a total stranger and seem to develop an instant rapport yet you can spend many years with someone more familiar and don’t really feel their spirit let alone develop anything called a rapport.

Does that ever happen to you?

It is always a sad thing when people misjudge you based on false or inaccurate assumptions. Anyone judged like this is always going to feel a great sense of injustice.

Take for instance the subject of Jamaican nationality – or African ancestry for that matter. Now a Jamaican born native who has spent all her/his life in Jamaica may well feel s/he has more rights to the claim of being Jamaican than someone born outside of Jamaica to Jamaican parents. Yet I know quite a few overseas-based Jamaicans who take offence if they are called ‘foreigners’ by local Jamaicans when they return to Jamaica.

It is quite uncharitable (mean-spirited even!) for Jamaica locals to call overseas-based Jamaicans ‘foreigners,’ but all it does is create divisions between people of the same race and culture. Putting fun and joking aside, why do local Jamaicans seem to love calling their overseas-based counterparts ‘foreigners?’

I think part of the reason is ignorance, envy or an acknowledgement that anything from foreign (or overseas) is somehow better or worse than local. Many of these Jamaican doubters feel that in order to ‘qualify’ as a ‘true Jamaican’ you have to have lived all your life exclusively in Jamaica.

Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, but where ignorance is bliss certain minds will remain filled with the illusion of greater superiority. It’s a pity it has to be this way but this is how this particular cookie crumbles…

Wednesday, May 23 was Labour Day and this is usually a positive time in Jamaica. For 24 hours the island transforms into a hub of do-good activities and this promotes a day of unity within the island.

People take Labour Day seriously and they get heavily involved in these community projects. This year there were over 200 projects and as it’s an official holiday many hands were available to get involved.

Around this time I always think of Marley’s song “Work” which starts with the lyrics: “We, Jah people, can make it work; come together and make it work, yeah!” This has become like a Labour Day theme.

Good sentiments indeed. Maybe there should be more Labour Days!

I’ve always enjoyed doing business in Jamaica. Okay, sometimes the slow pace of transactions do get a little frustrating at times, but at least you do make progress and there are certain ’short cuts’ you can take to minimise the misery.

It’s a great help if you know people on the inside of organisations you have to deal with, of course. But I discovered another great way to get round the wait, without me doing anything special at all!

It seems like Jamaicans still elevate a ‘foreign’ accent as a desirable, must-show-respect-to commodity, so simply speaking and I apparently have an advantage.

In dealing with a bank clerk on Tuesday, May 22, she kept telling me how my British accent was ‘cute’. I actually hate sounding British so I flicked into Jamaican mode. “No, no, please” the clerk said. “Please don’t talk Jamaican. I like your British accent…”

Maybe liking my accent distracted her because the transaction actually took two hours simply to update two accounts and open a new one. It wasn’t unpleasant being served by her, but perhaps the professional approach would have cut down the transaction time.

It is certainly different doing business on a less formal level! Even if it takes a little longer.

We’re leading up to elections here in Jamaica and usually it is traditionally a time people fear and have visions of gloom about. This is all for good reasons!

In the past Jamaica has become famous for the violence which mars “peaceful and democratic” elections. Usually rival members of the main political parties, the ruling PNP and the opposition JLP, run amok with guns and intimidation to encourage or stop voters from getting to the ballot boxes.

Both parties deny this, of course, but the suspicion still hangs in the air, like a lingering bad smell.

This time, however, it is refreshing to hear conciliatory noises being made by leaders of the main parties, Prime Minister Portia Simpson-Miller and the JLP’s Bruce Golding.

Local people always hope that election is peaceful, fare and free from intimidation and corruption. Time will tell if this will be the case. If history is anything to go by then we should not hold our breath.

But the hope is still high.

It is always amazing to think that Jamaica, one of the most beautiful places on earth, should also be infected with so much poverty and hardship.

The huge number of high performance 4 x 4 vehicles that whiz pass beggars and destitute people, even as your eyes catch sight of some beautiful Ginger Lily growing from nearby hedges swaying in the slipstream, certainly jolt your senses to extremes.

Newspaper headlines heralding the death of the latest ghetto badman , killed in a police shootout, fight for front cover space of stories about current Miss Jamaica World Zara Redwood, the island's first Rastafarian (and Black), to represent the country.

The countless deaths of motorists and pedestrians on the road, policemen killed, general badness committed by desperadoes and gangsters for various reasons as well as the general disrepair of some roads and buildings, all sit uneasily alongside Jamaica's standing as a strong tourist attraction.

I guess the good and the bad have to find a way of living harmoniously together, but it still jars. Still, it's good that the beauty and goodness reigns over the alternative.

There is a natural ambiance about Jamaica that is sometimes hard to explain. For instance, there is a certain time of the evening when you can hear every ambient sound so clearly you can isolate each channel distinctly.

From vintage Studio One reggae wafting over from some radio or sound system a little distance in front of us, sounds of dog barking, the breeze rustling the trees to car horns sounding.

Bubbling away in the background is the sound of the crickets. You may not be able to see those creatures but their decidedly distinctive chorus is melodious enough to enchant you!

Maybe it is easier to hear all these sounds simultaneously because the air is less congested with the debris of high tech noise pollutant such as satellite, mobile phone or even TV.

There is something to be said for keeping things simple: it improves clarity and thought!

I wonder if this is what Bob Marley meant when he sang: “There’s a natural mystic blowing in the air…”

I wasn’t really counting on how the change of weather, from Britain’s invariably stark and dark climate to Jamaica’s usually light and bright warm tone, would affect my physical health. But, it has!

Mentally and spiritually, of course, I knew I was already affected. The thought lifted my spirits, as did the preparation for the trip.

Before I came around six days ago, I ached in my joints and was generally sluggish. Now, after soaking up the sun for nearly a week in capital Kingston, all my pains are gone. And I have not been to the beach as yet!

I jumped high, stretched, stooped and pushed up with no part of my body creaking or complaining. I put it all down to the fact that Jamaica’s warm environment is good for me.

The moral, if there is one, is this: if you’re a Caribbean-born overseas-based national, don’t stay away from your home country too long!

What I like best about the Caribbean is that you’re never too far from natural food. By natural I’m talking about “ital” as in the Rastafarian sense or “organic” as in the westerners sense. Food that has been picked a few moments before you eat them.

You should have guessed by now that I prefer natural food to the canned, tinned or bottled variety they use in Europe. Whether it is fruit or veg you appreciate the taste a lot better when your food is fresh.

Imagine being able to drive up to a seaside restaurant, selecting your fish that has just been caught under one hour ago. You then complete your order, perhaps with a bottle of Red Stripe or a pint of fruit juice, natural of course.

As you wait you hear the crashing of the waves against the shores and you’re reminded that this is the Caribbean. The cool  breeze ravishing your face as you await your order. When it comes you marvel at the mouth-watering delights on the plate in front of you. Fried fish, bammy (made from cassava), onions, green pepper, tomato, garnished in a delicately balanced sweet/sour fish sauce.

It just doesn’t get any better than that, right?