Vacation Dispatch: A Taste of Black on Black Racism in Jamaica By A.G. Ahmed

I came to Boscobel Beach on vacation but what did I get? A rude awakening to the real world of racial profiling in Jamaica. An awakening to the fact that no matter who you are or where you are, as long you are black, you will be treated poorly even by another black man. I am so disgusted by the blatant differential and discriminatory treatment that was meted out to me at my hotel that I could not sleep through the night. I kept turning and tossing and couldn’t get the incident out of my mind so I wrote this at 2:00 am in the hope that I could go to sleep afterwards.

So what was it that I am upset about? Having arrived at this resort and unable to access the internet for over 24 hours, I decided to approach the front desk for assistance. Yes, I am very cognizant of my addiction to the internet. At the desk, I saw three men standing at a computer and waited for over ten minutes for help. I was completely ignored. Please note that I was the only customer for the entire period. Soon, a Caucasian family - a couple and their two children - arrived at the desk and were instantly accorded a red carpet reception by the staff who still hadn’t acknowledged my presence. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I had just been told that I was too black to be noticed by a fellow black man from Jamaica. I felt insulted.

I never expected this in Jamaica of all places. But what was I thinking? I should read the ominous signals correctly. The signs were written everywhere, from the doorman’s attitude to cleaning lady’s demeanour, from the dinning room to the poolside. I sensed something different from the moment I arrived at 3 o’clock this morning. Some of the problems include insufficient toiletries, no hot water, and being ignored in the restaurants. What a place? I have been to Jamaica before but this is my first time at Boscobel Beaches and you bet it is my worst experience.

So what did I do about it? Well, concerning my front desk encounter, I requested to speak with the manager on duty. A lady came up and introduced herself as the manager. I asked if we could go into her office because I wanted to save her the embarrassment of letting the world know that racism exists even in Jamaica. I was later made to understand that the phenomenon is classism, not racism. In her office, I proceeded to tell her what had just happened. Another lady showed up midway and also introduced her self as the manager. I repeated my story to the second manager (too many chiefs eeh?).

The two ladies “apologized” on behalf of their staff and defended their organization. In the ten-minute encounter with these managers, I was lectured on how far and wide one of the mangers had travelled. I was told that in Jamaica, the colour of your skin does not count but your social class does. I was told that in Jamaica, racism is not a problem but classism definitely is. I was made to understand that since there was no way the front desk staff could tell my social class, they had to resort to a default mode: treat all black men, including Jamaican blacks, as less important. You read me right. A black man has only one role at Boscobel Beach, Ocho Rios and that is as a servant. No more.

The manager probably did not understand the import of what she said but I heard her loud and clear. As a black man, my place in society is well defined for me by the system and the people in that system regardless of my economic or academic status. The manager reminded all of us, including the three front desk staff, that “One Love” (a popular Jamaican slogan) does not translate to “Equal Right and Justice”. Although Bob Marley tried, his legacy is fading away very fast in Jamaica. Bob’s kin are treating fellow blacks with disrespect right here in Jamaica. “Yea mon” no matter where you come from as long as you are a black man, you don’t have a say if a Caucasian is present. Why? Because whiteness equals affluence and black equals poverty in Jamaica.

By the way, you wonder whether the manager asked me what I wanted at front desk in the first place and attempted to solve my problem, don’t you? Well, she did not have the time for that. She was too busy protecting her staff and the interest of “the right social class” to consider my plight to be of any significance. I love Jamaica and I will be back but I don’t know when. I have decided to write this but I honestly don’t know what to do with it. I will for sure not share it yet with my fourteen, twelve, and eight-year old children. I really want them to have a different experience on this vacation. But I want them and their generation to know that one “One Love” means “Equal Right and Justice” regardless of your social class or the colour of your skin.

Whenever I come back to Jamaica, however, I will like to stay in a place where my family and I will be treated with dignity; a place where I will not be too black to be noticed; a place where I shall not be told by a fellow black that my colour automatically places me in a lower social class; a place where the doormen, waitresses, managers, lifeguards, and other staff treat people of all races equally. In a few days, my family and I will head back to Canada where I am treated with dignity because there is justice. The guarantee of individual rights and freedom makes Canada a place where there is One Love. Canadians will always “get together and feel alright” regardless of race. Well, we have no choice anyway for it is too cold to be on your own, eeh!