A GOOD COUNTRY TO LIVE IN?

Is Jamaica a good place to live in? Anyone who regularly reads our newspapers regularly would find it difficult to answer yes. More often than not the headlines speak of violent murders, roadblock demonstrations and economic decline. The fact that the Gleaner has a column called “What’s Right With Jamaica” tells us that people are not used to seeing positive stories written about this country.

 

Nor is the press being sensationalist and not reporting the news as it is. Jamaica does have one of the world’s highest homicide rates. Our roads are in atrocious condition. And over the past five years few if any countries not at war have had a lower official economic growth rate. No wonder polls shows that a majority of the Jamaican people would emigrate if given the opportunity.

 

Recently I visited Canada, which has been ranked number one on the United Nations Development Program’s Human Development Index for eight consecutive years. It is not difficult to see why. The ordinary citizen there has an excellent standard of living and free access to a very good educational system and wonderful health care.

 

I was reminded again how well everything works in Canada when I went to renew my Canadian passport. (I hold dual citizenry having lived there for over ten years with my family while going to school). I simply brought the appropriate documents, filled out the form, took a number, waited 20 minutes to be called, had everything checked by an attendant, and was told to come back in a week. And seven days later voila!

 

How wonderfully efficient and free from hassle! No lining up for hours in a hot and dusty office. No bad tempered clerk telling me I have forgotten some document I was not told about on the phone. Nobody tugging on my sleeve and whispering to me that “If you let off a smalls I can make sure you get through quick”. And no interminable wait for months to get a travel document that is mine by right.

 

When you add such amenities and efficiencies to a very low crime rate and a friendly and extremely tolerant people, it should be hard to disagree with the UNDP that Canada is the best country on the planet to live in.

 

Except of course that hardly any of the Canadians I talked to on my trip seemed very happy with their lives. The very mention that I was from Jamaica inevitably raised murmurs of envy. To be sure most of them were just thinking about the warm weather. In the midst of a cold winter the mere thought of sunshine can understandably make all thoughts of poverty, bad roads and crime seem irrelevant.

 

Yet it may be more than that. Even when I visited my family last summer when it was warm and pleasant I never got the feeling that Canadians are particularly content with their lot. Certainly on an intellectual level they generally recognize how lucky they are, and are justifiably proud of their number one UNDP ranking. But that didn’t stop the grumbling about working long hours or the traffic or rain on precious summer weekends.

 

To be sure it is human nature to always find something to complain about. But for all Canada’s measurable physical blessings something seemed to be missing. And what it was struck me as I took the subway to downtown Toronto one morning. During the entire 45 minute ride I did not hear a single person exchange another word with anyone. The only sound was a mechanical voice calling out the station names and saying “please stand clear of the doors”.

 

A number of things occur to me as I remember this. For one thing I would not be taking public transport in Kingston. It would simply be too crowded, unreliable, inconvenient and dangerous. Anyone from my social and racial background would at the least draw loud comments about “Wha Missa Chin depon bus fa!” and at the worst draw the attention of a criminal in search of easy pickings. And it would be worse if I were female. In Toronto any man or woman from any economic or ethnic background can take the buses or subways in almost complete safety.

 

Yet no Jamaican bus would be enveloped with the sense of loneliness and alienation that seemed to pervade that Toronto subway car. Whatever hardships people in this country face, they never lose their essential humanity. Jamaican buses may not always be filled with laughter, but there is usually some, though there can also be tears and anger. The point is that Jamaicans always seem alive and naturally at one with their fellow men and surroundings. As Jean Paul Sarte might have put it, this is a nation of engagees.

 

True life ‘a yard’ can be maddeningly frustrating when people seem unable or unwilling to follow the simple rules of courtesy that make everything so much easier. But away from home you really miss the exuberance and spontaneity. (It seems irrational to say so, but things in a place like Canada run so well that nothing ever seems unexpected and there are never any surprises. Can becoming too efficient make a place boring? Ah well, cold weather can make you talk nonsense.)

 

For all the bad news in the media and our constant complaining, Jamaicans don’t seem all that unhappy to outsiders. Recently my sister visited me in Montego Bay for about a month. One day she remarked how friendly Jamaicans were and how they seemed so much happier than people in Canada. “Really?” I answered in surprise. Yes she went on. Even the drivers seemed more polite. When there was a long line and you were coming from a side street someone would usually let you in. It wasn’t like that in Canada. And another thing she noticed was how friendly everyone was towards children and how even the men showed genuine interest in her little ones.

 

Well one swallow does not a summer make and this is only one person’s opinion. And it might be highly coloured by both being near the sea in Montego Bay and the thought of having temporarily escaped a brutal winter. (I related the story to a cousin in Kingston and he laughed derisively – let her come to Kingston and see how many happy faces she saw!)

 

But maybe there is something in what she said. When I compare how little real mirth I hear when I visit Toronto – or even Miami – to the constant jocularity and full body laughter I am used to in Jamaica, I always ask myself this. Can a people who laugh so easily and frequently be fundamentally unhappy with their lot in life? changkob@hotmail.com


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