Jamaica and Me

I’d always been attracted to Jamaican culture: the reggae, the rum, Bob Marley and the philosophy that “Every little thing’s gonna be all right”!

When a Jamaican friend suggested a holiday in Ocho Rios, I jumped at the chance, and four of us went to stay near Dunn’s River Falls.The falls themselves are 180 feet high and attract millions of visitors every year. Climbing to the top is apparently ‘a must’ and I wish I had the courage (and the balance!) to do it! My friends returned slightly grazed and bruised but exhilarated!

We drove with other Jamaican friends up to St. Thomas and found a much less demanding way to bathe in Jamaica’s healing waters. We stayed overnight at The Bath Fountain Hotel, a lovely old guesthouse, where we were treated like part of the family. We were able to bathe in the individual jacuzzis inside the building. The warm mineral water gushes from the rock face and is piped directly into the hotel. It gets its heat from a volcano underground. Apparently, in years gone by, the slaves would bathe in the river to heal their wounds.

The drive to St. Thomas couldn’t have been more different from the route home. On the way there, the narrow winding roads passed through dense vegetation. Tiny shacks with corrugated iron rooves clung precariously to the steep drop, dogs wandered across the road and children played barefoot by the roadside.

The way back took us through Kingston, where we visited the immaculately maintained gardens of Devon House. It was built in 1891 by George Steibel, Jamaica’s first black millionaire. He was educated at an exclusive private school and went on to buy a ship and run a business transporting cargo. Shipwrecked in a terrible storm, he was washed ashore in Venuezuela, where he stayed for 15 years, making a fortune in goldmining.

He returned to Jamaica and built Devon House at the age of 60. He was a man who cared about his community: for example, when his daughter was married, he bought an ox so that the poor people could feast with him.

In the 1960’s, the Government saved Devon House from the housing developers and later bought it, to be preserved as a historical monument. We wandered through the gardens and indulged in the world famous Devon House ice creams – it would have been rude not to!!!

Back at our hotel in Ocho Rios, the food catered for all tastes…but I avoided the pizzas and fries and went for the Jamaican options. Ackee and saltfish was my favourite. To be honest, I think they toned down the spices for us wimpy tourists! Another food highlight was jerk lobster at a roadside booth (a secret shared by our local friends). It was served by a rather serious vendor with several gold teeth and a very large meat cleaver!

We also visited a Jamaican friend who spends half the year in England and half in Ocho Rios. (Sounds like a plan!). His apartment is near the top of a block of flats overlooking the port. Ocho Rios means 8 rivers, and they all flow into the sea here. From his window, we could look up the cliffs to one of Mick Jagger’s holiday homes, and down to the ridiculously huge cruise ships docking briefly in the small bay.

Thinking about the massive cruise liners, and the incredible quality and quantity of facilities in our hotel, I began to find the luxury provided for the tourists disturbing and uncomfortable, in comparison to the lifestyle of most of the local people. The majority of hotel owners are foreigners, so the proceeds of tourism aren’t staying in Jamaica. What’s the solution? Part of it must be education. Then home grown entrepreneurs could step forward to own and manage the accommodation and tourist attractions.

Being a dyslexia specialist with a passion for literacy, that’s what prompted two further trips to Jamaica. Having made contact with the local Primary School, we were assigned to one of the older classes, to give some 1:1 tuition to those children who would benefit from it.

I had assumed that these would be students with dyslexia and specific difficulties, but by and large, this was not the case. Most of the children we worked with made significant improvements in the short time that we were there (every morning for 2 weeks).

The classes were large, with only one teacher. Discipline was good and the children were keen to learn, but it was impossible for one teacher to differentiate the curriculum. Our children in Britain don’t realise how lucky they are to have Teaching Assistants for group work and individual support.

They fall way behind their Jamaican counterparts in terms of determination and enthusiasm for learning. Every morning we were mobbed by huge numbers of children, shouting “Is it my turn Miss?”, “Miss, Miss, take me!” It was hard to turn them down, as we squeezed into what doubled up as a storeroom, with our two children at a time.

On our second visit, two years later, the welcome was the same. This time we had the luxury of a whole empty classroom. On our second day, a boy raced across the playground, shouting “It’s the white people! The white people are coming!” We felt so at home, that we hadn’t noticed how much we stood out! The children were interested to hear how multicultural most British schools are.

Some other differences made us smile: The horn was blown for an earthquake warning. My friend asked, “Is there a real earthquake?” No, thankfully it was a practice, just like our fire drills! And then there was the Christmas tree…with its traditional decorations, displayed outside in the blazing sun. No snow here! On one occasion, the children were asked to line up “by the tamarind tree”….so wonderfully foreign to us!

Since Government funding for education is not as high as in Britain, we wanted to redress the balance in some small way, by helping with resources. On our previous visit, we’d noticed some large, cumbersome pieces of equipment, donated by other well-meaning people. They were not being used. We didn’t want to make that same mistake. It’s so important to provide what people actually need, rather than what you think they should have.

We’d noticed that the classroom floors were concrete. The metal legs of the tables and chairs made such a scraping noise, that it was hard for the teachers to be heard. We’d discussed it with them and managed to source some rubber ‘feet’. We brought them with us in our hand luggage. Luckily the weight allowance was quite high! They really made a difference.

We were free in the afternoons and did some sightseeing: James Bond beach on Ian Fleming’s estate, Bob Marley’s house and a fruit and coffee plantation. We visited my friends Winston and Andrea, who lived in England but have moved back permanently to Jamaica. They are working on a huge and beautiful house that they’ve bought, turning part of it into a holiday apartment.

Would I like to rent it? If they’re doing ‘mates rates’…….you bet!