Outside the resort walls in Jamaica
What most visitors don’t see, and why it matters
The Jamaican tourist board says Jamaica is ready to welcome you again. Only weeks after one of the most powerful Atlantic hurricanes on record made its impact, tourist officials were keen to let the world know they were still open for travel. Yes we have been battered, beaten and bruised, but if you come here, you can help us get back up on our feet again. Not their exact words, but I zhuzhed it up for literary purposes. If you visit my Substack profile, you’ll see my bio reads ‘having a love/hate relationship with travel.’ If there were anyone else that statement should belong to, it’s Jamaica. The island is in a codependent relationship with tourism. Tourism doesn’t respect it, doesn’t always treat it right, and has more red flags than green. But as it’s one of the biggest employers in the country, Jamaica needs it. Especially now.
One of the symptoms of a codependent relationship is that the two rely on each other in an unhealthy way. Tourism relies on Jamaican labour, culture, land and natural resources. Jamaica gives it all, as it relies on it for income. But it’s being short-changed: much of that income leaves the destination due to the resorts being foreign-owned. The resorts provide jobs, but often the jobs aren’t well paid and can be unstable (i.e. seasonal work with few employment benefits). There are local people who are succeeding through tourism, but for many, it gives them just enough to get by, but not enough to make a meaningful difference to their lives. Like a form of breadcrumbing: giving them enough to keep wanting more, but not enough to be entirely full. It’s an unfair relationship, where one side is taking far more than it’s giving.
Another symptom of codependency is when the relationship becomes an identity for one of the people involved. They lose themselves and become defined by the relationship instead. It’s the reason why upon telling people I was going to Jamaica, a common response was, ‘Are you staying in a resort?’ To many outsiders, that is their entire association with Jamaica. The resorts have come to define what Jamaica is to them. It’s all they know, and even for many who visit, all they will ever know. The all-inclusive model and fear-mongering mean that many don’t see beyond the resort walls. So dear reader, having spent time in February intentionally travelling outside of the resorts, allow me to paint a picture for you.
Jamaica was a lot more mountainous than I expected. You probably picture beaches, but you should picture ginormous mounds of green instead. Every time I looked at them, I thought of that scene in Moana, when Mother Earth lies down on the sea. Then picture fruit trees everywhere. Mango trees, soursop trees, Otaheite apple trees, ackee trees - there’s an abundance that I’ve never seen before (it blows my mind that it’s all organic and free). Legend has it that things flourish in Jamaica. They say the land is so fertile that you can throw seeds anywhere and soon after, trees and fruits will appear. Apparently, it’s the same with ideas here too. Many creatives have been drawn to the island over the years as something about the environment helps them bring their ideas to life. It’s where all of the James Bond books were written, where Solange retreated to write When I Get Home, where Keith Richards decided to buy a home to focus on music. And of course, where many homegrown creatives have created world-renowned music genres and more.
When you hear Jamaica, you might picture Rasta men. Well here’s a surprise for you - only between 1-5% of the population identify as Rastafarian, and historically they were ostracised by Jamaican society. The success of Bob Marley spread global awareness of the Rasta religion and helped to change perceptions of them at home. But you could also say that it created an internationally simplified view of Jamaica, where there’s now a stereotype of all Jamaican’s having dreadlocks, smoking weed and listening to reggae. I didn’t actually see many people with dreadlocks when I was there. But of course, I heard reggae and hearing it in Jamaica feels different. Though even this feels like another part of Jamaican culture that’s been simplified to outsiders. There was a night at a reggae club surrounded by German tourists, where I thought to myself that the problem with reggae is the crowd it attracts - hippies love reggae, and once hippies love something, it’s easy for others to dismiss it entirely. It’s created a perception of it being laid-back music to space out to, rather than something with political origins.
Other things that might surprise you. There are white Jamaicans, Chinese Jamaicans and Indian Jamaicans. It’s where one of the world’s rarest and most expensive coffees is grown. The food is very vegan-friendly - just ask for Ital food, which is the plant-based Rasta diet. Beyond the coastal areas, in the capital city, Kingston, you’ll see a modern Jamaica that isn’t defined by tourism - new restaurants and businesses are popping up, the creative scene is growing, and there’s a lot of redevelopment going on. Inland, you’ll find quieter country areas with rivers, lagoons, waterfalls, rocks, and rainforests peppered with colourful houses, jerk drums and fruit stands. After warnings by many people I spoke to before visiting, I was surprised by how safe I felt. However, I feel like this is a difficult area to talk about, as I know bad things do happen (as they do everywhere), and I don’t want to gloss over them. But from my experience, I found the majority of people to be extremely friendly and helpful. In Irish Town and Portland, everyone we passed would say hello and good morning, random groups of men sitting by the roadside would stop to wave at us as we drove by, and our conversations with taxi drivers were a highlight each day.
It was those small moments, interactions and warm people that really made the trip, and those are the things you miss out on when you don’t leave the resort. There was Selteca, a host we chose to stay with, who got us different fruits to try from her garden and danced to reggae on her balcony at sunset and showed me photos of her family. Her husband, Lopez, who spent ages trying to get a coconut down from a tree for my boyfriend after he was unwell. Ingrid, a coffee shop owner, who felt like an old friend that we visited multiple times. Nicholas, who was just meant to give me a lift to an experience, but decided to stay with me after he saw I was apprehensive about going alone. Teika, a tour guide who taught us dominoes and got us into the sea for a swim. The young girl who was obsessed with the Premier League and worked as an Uber driver while trying to build her business on the side. The waitress who offered to get us ackee from her garden when she found out my boyfriend never got to try any. You haven’t really visited Jamaica if you haven’t experienced its people and culture.
I think tourism works at its best when it’s like this - when it lives up to its promise of cultural exchange and directly supports local people. All-inclusive resort tourism feels like the opposite of that - it’s an isolated bubble that hoards wealth, while outside the walls are people and communities who are in need. It’s been six months since Melissa and yes, parts of Jamaica are ready to welcome you again, and they are in need of tourists. I would encourage you to go, but where you spend your money matters more than ever. The international resorts likely have a safety net, while a locally run hotel often depends on each booking to support a family. The all-inclusive model means that your money stays in one place, whereas if you go outside of that, you’re more likely to spread your money across multiple local restaurants, shops and services. For me, it also comes down to my values. Less than 1% of the island’s coastline is freely accessible to residents, where the government has allowed resorts to privatise the beaches and restrict locals from visiting and fishing, cutting off their livelihoods. Personally, that isn’t something I want to support, so I didn’t.
I’ve spent months (if not years) researching local businesses and areas outside of the resorts, and I’ve put it all into one guide so you don’t have to piece it together yourself. It’s not just a quick list of recommendations, but the sort of practical advice that you need to plan your trip, i.e. what’s worth it and what isn’t, where to stay depending on how you want to travel, how to get around, the taxi drivers and guides I’d actually trust, and my honest takes on places/experiences. And yes, it will also contain amazing recommendations - a maximalist private villa overlooking a secluded lagoon, a proper Jamaican home-cooked feast that’s served in a remote riverside location, a women-owned boutique hotel where guests dine together like family each night, a Rasta-led cooking class in a water park, the dishes you need to try, and much more.
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You can see some more of my Jamaica trip on Instagram. Psst, did you know I also work in content, helping travel brands and founders with Instagram strategy and storytelling? You can find out more on my website.
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Loved reading your experience away from the all inclusives! The inland mountains, waterfalls, and lagoons sound like the hidden gems I’d love to see.
This is such an important topic, thank you for sharing! I personally learned a lot about Jamaica from this, did not know such a small % of population is Rasta, because that is the dominant image I see portrayed of Jamaica in media. I also love how you analyzed the codependency relationship between 2 countries. I can def think of many other countries in that type of dependency cycle, which is so unfortunate