Ochi

February 11, 2007

Ocho Rios, on the North end of the island, is a tourist heaven. It’s incredibly small and pretty much everything worthwhile is located on one street that ends with the Island Village - the center for tourist attractions, overpriced stores and American restaurants. The first noticeable thing about Ocho Rios is that there are tons of white people walking around with fanny packs and cameras. Even though we weren’t taking pictures at every opportunity and walking into stores to purchase Jamaica T-shirts, we looked like tourists. I mean lets face it: we’re white. Anyway, being in Ocho Rios was a pretty dissatisfying experience. Because of the way we looked, people treated us like tourists. I tried to buy a bottle of water and they tried to charge me twice what it costs in Kingston. We tried to get a bus but taxi drivers wouldn’t leave us alone. We had to haggle prices down for everything. It was ridiculous. Generally, when people found out that we were from Kingston though, the price immediately dropped and the pushiness stopped. I felt out of place in that environment and I didn’t like it. I guess in a lot of senses I’ve become accustomed to Jamaican culture. Even though the experience of Ochi wasn’t that great, it was an enlightening experience because I realized how far I’ve really come over the past month.

I wouldn’t say that Ochi was a waste of time this weekend. I had some really good jerk chicken, I indulged in American food (a big salad!!!) and I worked on my tan, but it was not the Jamaica that I came to visit. It was so bad that I started getting reverse culture shock. I couldn’t stand all of the hagglers trying to sell me stupid things, I couldn’t stand all of the white people who think that Jamaica is nothing but hotels and pools and bars and restaurants, and most of all I couldn’t stand that all of the Jamaicans were acting – they weren’t being genuine to us. Before I came to Jamaica, I remember having done so much research and finding so many things that I loved about the culture – much more than four star hotels – but since my arrival I’ve been so immersed in the real Jamaica that I forgot about the ignorance that many people have about this culture. It was a kind of wakeup call for me and I realize again how much I want to change people’s perceptions about this place. I don’t want to vacation like these people do. I realize the difference between being a traveler and a tourist now, and I think it’s almost gross to be a tourist. Of course, this can’t be avoided in many situations, because if you’re vacationing for less than a month it’s impossible to be a traveler, but at the same time, I will always be aware of this when I do vacation. Ochi is not the Jamaica that I was originally attracted to, and I have no urge to go back while I’m here.

Yesterday we went to Turtle Beach, the main beach in Ochi, and that too was an experience. It was the worst beach that I’ve seen in Jamaica so far. Don’t get me wrong – it was absolutely beautiful with its white sand, palm trees, stone tables and benches – and it was convenient because there were bathrooms and showers and lifeguards – and it was the cleanest beach that we’ve been to – but it was the worst. First of all, you had to pay to get in. Yes, it was only $200, but the fact that there was an entrance fee at all was lame, and it resulted in a big chain-link fence surrounding the beach. Then there was the water. At this beach, they had buoys and ropes that showed the swimable area (because there are jet skis and boats and other water sports that could injure people swimming outside of the area), and at the deepest point, I could still touch the bottom. It was interesting that the people swimming in the water were pretty much all Jamaicans, and all of the people sunbathing were white. Overall, the beach seemed more like a man-made tourist attraction than the natural beautiful beaches that we’re used to. For example, Hellshire, the beach closest to Kingston, has no buoys. You can go as deep in the water as you want. Sure, there are rocks and seaweed and other gross things that you might not want to put your feet on anyway (unlike the soft sand bottom of the beach in Ochi), but there is no limit to where you can go. Hellshire has no chain link fence to obstruct your view. Hellshire has tons of locals that you can talk to or play soccer with. Because everyone was a tourist in Ocho Rios, all of the people kept to themselves, unlike the other areas of Jamaica, where people walking down the beach will stop to tell you you’re beautiful or ask you where you’re from and engage in a nice conversation with you. The beach vibe in Ochi sucked.

So what is the Jamaica that I’ve fallen in love with, then? It’s difficult to say. Something that stands out for me in Jamaica is the kindness of all the locals. People in the West Indies are known for their hospitality. Ms. Ford let her sister-in-law stay at her house for three weeks. During this entire time, Ms. Ford slept in a room next to mine and gave the master bedroom to her guest. In Jamaica, everyone asks you how you are doing – not like in America where we expect “good” as the polite reply and just walk on. People in Jamaica truly care how you are doing – if you’re happy, if you need anything, etc. And people in Jamaica will interrupt whatever they’re doing to help you out. If I’m on the bus and I don’t know where to get off, I can ask any local and they will show me exactly what stop I should exit at. If I’m lost, someone will walk with me to show me the way, instead of just giving vague directions and pointing somewhere. People will tell you if something is dangerous and make suggestions for ways to avoid it, like taking the bus from Halfway Tree instead of downtown. And one day, on my way to school, there was a drug addict hustling me for some change, and one of the street vendors that I walk past every day came up and shooed the man away. People here care about each other. It’s not the same in America, where people are so independent. Everyone here says hi when you pass on the street. You greet people no matter who it is – a homeless man, a teacher, etc – they’re all people. The Jamaican saying, “Out of many, One People,” is constantly repeated and it is obvious that citizens believe in it. Unity. Acceptance. Peace.