by Calvin Robinson on April 15, 2009.

I’m back from two weeks in sunny Jamaica. My goodness the weather was nice! I spent the first 4 days in Negril, a week in May Pen, then another 4 days in Negril.

Negril is truly beautiful, probably the nicest place I’ve ever been. Sitting on the beach under the shade of a palm tree, reading a novel until the sun set, every day. Sipping blended fruit punch, and eating rice’n'peas with jerk chicken – that was my idea of paradise.

The tourist resort areas of Jamaica were just like a dream. It was only after I visited the heart of the country, the ‘real’ Jamaica, that I understood it really was a dream. A place for us foreigners to go and spend our money, a sheltered illusion of paradise.

Of course I’m not ignorant, I knew Jamaica is a poor country, I just didn’t understand how poor it actually was. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s Ethiopia poor. I didn’t see kids starving. But I did see a hell of a lot of people, struggling to get by.

Everyone has a hustle in JA. Everywhere I went, people were trying to sell you something, or offer you a service. You couldn’t walk down the road 5 meters without a car honking their horn or pulling up beside you, yelling “Taxi?!”, most of which weren’t even licensed taxis. The shops weren’t so much shops, but shacks. Get a few 2-by-4s, bang them together, add a fridge, and you have yourself a shop. Most off-licenses didn’t even have a licence to sell liquor at all, just a chalk sign saying “We intend be apply for license…”.

Staying in May Pen, and visiting places like Spanish Town is one of those experiences that reminds you just how privelidged you are. I doubt my career / job title even exists in Jamaica. Most people are labourers of some kind. A hard knock life. But you don’t see Jamaicans complaining, or begging. Everyone is just doing their thing, trying to make ends meat.

There were shootings on the local news while we were over there. But I suppose that’s nothing that we don’t find in London these days. Scarey, but that’s life.

Being in Jamaica also surprised me at how British I actually am. I couldn’t help thinking “this ‘restaurant’ could look so much better, it just needs a fresh just a lick of paint”.

I suppose I just wasn’t preppared for how ghetto the country really is. It saddened me a little. But it was really good to see my roots.
It’s  a very beautiful place. I’ll probably return next year, my dad may be getting married.

The food was great, but I already knew that. And the best thing about Jamaica was that everywhere I went, they were playing a song from my playlist. I didn’t need headphones over there, they were always playing my tracklist! The concerts were another blog post altogether.

Fun times in JA. See you there next year.