Relax and Have a Beer at Norman Manley Beach Park in Negril

Negril's famous Seven-Mile Beach is chock full of restaurants, hotels, and bars. One of my favorite places to have a drink there is also one of the cheapest.

At the very end of the Seven-Mile Beach, just before you cross over the bridge into central Negril is Norman Manley Beach Park. This public park has a wooden structure that operates as a bar every day from around 11am to 8pm, and until midnight on Sundays. The bar itself has no name. I usually refer to it as Sanchez's, as the current owner is called Sanchez.

The bar is almost never crowded, except on Sunday nights, when it is packed full of locals jamming to dancehall on a huge sound system.

Most days, you'll find a couple of people playing dominoes at one of the tables, and a tourist or a local having a drink at the bar.

Jamaicans often order a flask of J.B. rum with a Coke, a Ting or a Red Bull. That order will get you as many cups of ice as you need. If your not into hard liquor, you can order the classic Red Stripe, or my favorite, Dragon Stout. No alcohol, no problem: you can order a Wata or a juice.

Many days, after a long walk on the beach, I'd sit in Sanchez's bar and alternately gaze at the amazing Caribbean Sea and listen to the Jamaicans at the bar talking in patois about their next business venture. Sitting there, I'd reflect on how lucky I was to have this amazing view, to feel the cool breeze, and just being able to completely chill out.

Unlike many of the other bars on the beach, you see very few vendors at Sanchez's. Although Negril is full of tourists, there are also relatively few tourists at this bar.

Definitely worth checking out while you are in Negril. If you go, tell Sanchez that Tanya sent you....

Two Weeks Alone in Negril

I spent two weeks traveling alone in Negril, Jamaica.

When you travel alone in Jamaica, however, you really are alone only as long as you want to be. As soon as you are ready to engage with the outside world, there are plenty of people willing to talk.

I spent my first few days here enjoying my solitude. When people called to me on the street, I ignored them. When people tried to start conversations on the beach, I cut them off. I wanted to be alone. I particularly didn't want to be bothered with inane conversations: "What's your name? Where are you from? First time in Jamaica?" Yeah, those can be pretty annoying. I know it sounds rude, but I find that, if I am not going to talk to a person, it is better to completely ignore them than to respond to their shouts and try to explain to them that you don't want to have a conversation. People usually assume you didn't hear them.

After a few days, however, I felt as though I had regained my grounding, and began to talk to people more. I started talking to people I know from the last time I was here. I am here in Negril doing ethnography, but my first few days were purely observational. After a few days, however, I had some questions about what I was seeing, so it was a suitable time to begin to engage in conversation.

The first person I spoke with for an extended period of time was a Jamaican who lived abroad for many years, but has now settled back in Jamaica. We chatted for a bit about how you can tell the difference between a Jamaican from Kingston and one who has lived abroad. The differences are often subtle, as urban working class Jamaicans and urban working class New Yorkers often dress quite similarly. As I began to have more questions and ideas about my work on Jamaican return migration, I engaged in more and more conversations.

I met up with a friend who was deported two years ago, and we talked about how he has learned to survive here in Negril. He explained to me that he works with the guys who change money. He hangs around and is available to run errands for them whenever they need it. They have grown to trust him, and give him tips whenever he runs an errand. With that money, plus the money his mother sends from the US, he is able to get by.

My last four days here in Jamaica, I completely emerged from my shell. I realized I only had a few days left, and had to get as much ethnography in as possible. After being here for ten days, I had a good idea as to who I could talk to and who I shouldn't. I started having conversations with strangers. This turned out to be remarkably enjoyable and informative.

On Friday, as I walked along the beach, an older rasta began to chat with me.We walked for about two miles along the beach, and he recounted to me how he had traveled to the US and been deported, and then gone to Europe and had been deported as well. Now, he makes a living working at a local bar. He is a deportee, but I doubt anyone would know it without talking to him for quite some time.

On Wednesday, I went out to a bar and chatted with several people about my work. These conversations helped me get a better understanding of why some deportees are able to get by and others aren't. Basically, in Jamaica, you have to figure out how things work and find a place for yourself within that framework. For some, starting a small business is the only way they will be successful. Others are willing to accept the status hierarchies and submissiveness that go along with working for someone else and can do that to survive. Still others figure out a hustle on the streets that works for them and do that to get by.

The first few days I was alone in Negril, it had been so long since I had long periods of time to myself that I really had to embrace my solitude and get comfortable with myself again. Soon enough, however, I had to start engaging with people. And, I am glad I did.

When you are traveling alone, you have the choice as to whether or not you want to talk to people. It was nice to have that choice for a while.

Unanticipated Benefits: A Story, a Hat, and a Long Walk

One of the great things about traveling to new places is that you get to meet people you never would have encountered had you stayed home.

For the two weeks I will be here in Negril, I decided that I will walk six miles a day. From my cottage - Silver Star Outback - in the center of Negril, it is three miles to the Lighthouse along the cliffs, and three miles to the end of the beach. Thus, I set out in either direction each afternoon and come back in the evening after having taken a long walk.

Today, I set out towards the cliffs. About ten minutes after leaving the cottage, I saw Miss Pamela across the road. Miss Pamela crochets hats and bags and sells them by the road for a living. She called me across the street and I went to greet her. I wished her a happy new year, and asked her how she had passed the holiday season. She started to say that it was good, but then interrupted herself to tell me that it was also sad, as her daughter had passed away.

Miss Pamela’s daughter, aged 38, had died of ovarian cancer in November. She hadn’t told her mother or anyone else of her diagnosis, and suffered in silence until she died. For her mother, her death was completely unexpected, and, possibly avoidable. She began to shed tears as she told me that her daughter tried to protect her by not telling her, but that she would have moved mountains to save her had she been given the chance. I told Miss Pamela that it was okay to cry. Only a person without a heart wouldn’t cry in the face of such great loss.

Miss Pamela’s daughter left two boys that she now cares for. One is ten, and thus is still in school and Miss Pamela has to find the money each day for school fees, uniforms, and lunch. She shook her head in disbelief that she has been able to provide for the boy. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,” she told me.

As a mother, it is unfathomable to me to imagine that my children would leave this earth before I do. As a woman, I was reminded that I need to make an appointment to get my pap smear and mammogram so that I can be sure I am healthy.

Our conversation turned lighter as Miss Pamela asked me about my children and told me stories of how she used to live close to a mutual friend of ours brother many years ago when her children were young. Today, Miss Pamela has 14 grandchildren and three granddaughters. She lamented the relative lack of little girls among her grandchildren. When she asked about my twins, she told me one of her sisters had five sets of twins!

Before leaving her stand, I bought a crocheted hat from Miss Pamela. I wanted to do something to alleviate her stress and depression. I got a green, gold, red, and black striped crocheted skull cap that I put on as I left.

As I walked up the road towards the lighthouse, I thought about our conversation and how ephemeral life is. I don’t like to think about that too much, so I quickly began to muse about other things as I appreciated the great blue sea to my right.

When I came back down the hill, I reflected on the fact that today, unlike most days, all of the Jamaican men who called out to me during my walk were respectful.  Instead of hissing or shouting “hey baby” or “do you need a man?,” people greeted me with a smile and a “good afternoon.” A couple of young men did flirt, but their flirtations were polite and not too insistent.

Perhaps it was just a fluke. Perhaps it was the cap. I will have to wear it again tomorrow to find out.

Funny, though. I purchased the cap to help Miss Pamela out, to remember her, and to remind myself to make an OB/GYN appointment when I get back to the United States. Sometimes you do something that has unanticipated positive consequences.

One of the great things about traveling is the people you encounter and the conversations you have. The trip will be over soon, but the memories will linger.

Walking in Negril: No Problem, Mon

Seven Mile Beach, Negril

There are many ways to get around Negril: private taxis, route taxis, hotel buses, bicycles, and on foot. Few visitors to Negril are aware that you can actually walk from one end of town to another. If you walk at a leisurely pace, you can get from the Lighthouse on the West End all the way to Beaches on the far end of the beach in about 3 hours.

From Beaches, you can continue along a 100 meter path and come out on the other side to another public beach. From there, there is another Beaches, and then Hedonism. The Seven Mile Beach ends there. If you walk it, you might realize that the beach is not actually seven miles, despite the name. It is about four miles from Norman Manley Public Beach to the end of Hedonism. From point to point, all of Negril is about 7 miles long: Four miles of beach; One mile from the beach to the edge of downtown; and Three miles up to the Lighthouse.

One nice walk in Negril is from the Canoe Bar at the beginning of the West End up to the Lighthouse at the far end of the West End. This would take about 90 minutes if you didn’t stop along the way. But, stops along the way are the best part. You can have a delicious lunch at the Canoe Bar or Easy Rock Café before heading on your journey, and will have plenty of time to get to Rick’s Café to see the sunset.

View from the Lighthouse

If you walk during the summer months, it is best to wait until about 4pm to start your journey as it can be too hot otherwise. In the winter, however, you can do this walk almost any time of the day.

One excellent place to stop along the way is Xtabi, a restaurant and hotel with an amazing view of the cliffs. If you are feeling brave, you can jump off of Xtabi’s cliffs or swim out to one of their caves. If you want to keep your hiking gear dry, you can explore the caves without getting into the water. If you eat here, the conch burger is quite tasty! Xtabi is a great place to stop and cool off, as the rest of the walk is mostly shaded, especially after the sun begins to go behind the trees (about 3pm).

Just next to Xtabi is Three Dives, which also has an amazing view of the cliffs, and delicious jerk conch and chicken if you are hungry. If not, you can relax with a Red Stripe or my favorite, Dragon Stout, on their benches that overlook the sea.

From Three Dives, it is about a 30 minute walk up to Rick’s Café, where you can walk in and watch all of the cliff jumpers and take in the beautiful view. You also can swim here in the transparent water to cool off before heading up to the Lighthouse, which does not have swimming.

The Lighthouse is about a twenty minute walk from Rick’s Café. This is my favorite part of the walk. Once you get past Rick’s Café, there are very few vendors, lots of vegetation, and many different views of the sea. It is also cooler as there is plenty of shade and often a nice sea breeze.

The view at the Lighthouse is spectacular, and there usually is a cool breeze blowing. The snorkeling at the Lighthouse is fantastic as well. You just have to have the guts to walk down the steep wooden ladder, across the rocks and into the sea. You can stay at the Lighthouse to watch the sunset, or go back to any of the many bars and restaurants you saw along the way to relax and witness the sun dropping into the sea.

If you are up for it, you can walk back…. downhill. Or, you can catch a ride in the many route taxis that run up and down One Love Drive.

One caveat: There is no sidewalk along One Love Drive. For this reason, it is best to do this walk during the day. At night, it can be quite alarming, with cars speeding past you.

Traveling Solo: Not scared to be alone

I am traveling alone in Jamaica, and reflecting on what it means for a mother and a wife to be alone.

When I met my husband, Fernando, in 1999 in Rio de Janeiro, I was traveling alone. I wanted to go to South America and could find no one to accompany me. My brother had promised to come, but backed out at the last minute. So, I called my friend Fabio in Rio and told him I was coming to Brazil.

In 1999, I was 25 years old and ready for an adventure. I got what I was looking for when I met Fernando and became a traveling hippie selling beaded necklaces on the side of the road throughout Brazil, Bolivia, and Peru.

I have not traveled alone since. At least, I have not traveled for more than a day or two as I make my way somewhere to meet someone.

In late 2010, I found myself in a situation similar to 1999. I wanted to travel and no one wanted to or could come with me. My children couldn’t come because they have school. My husband would have to stay to look after them. My friends and siblings had too much work or not enough money. I decided that this would not stop me. I wanted to go to Jamaica in early 2011, and I would make my plans regardless of whether or not anyone would come with me.

On January 1, 2011, I woke up in Miami with the realization that the day had come. I was getting ready to board a plane to Negril, Jamaica. By myself. I admit that I briefly considered not going. I am not sure what I was scared of.

Was I scared to be alone? When I was younger, I hated having time to sit around and think because, inevitably, those times would bring back memories of frightful moments or realizations that people I cared for deeply had been harmed. So, I kept going, going, and going so I would not have to think about those things.

My mother says you can’t just push back your fears and feelings: you have to deal with them. I am not sure if I processed all of those memories, or if they really have receded, but I now can sit alone and remember a few horrible moments in my life without breaking down in tears. So, I don’t think I was scared of being alone.

I may have been scared of coming alone to Jamaica, of being put in harm’s way. Of course, I know that Negril is much safer than many urban areas in the United States where I have lived. Nevertheless, as a woman who walks alone, I also know that I can be in danger anywhere. Now that I am here, I feel safe nearly all of the time except for the 20 steps I have to take each evening through a dark path between the hardware store and my cottage.

I once had a boyfriend who practiced martial arts. He told me that I should run if I ever had to walk down a dark street alone at night as I would be less likely to be attacked. At the time, I lived behind Prince George’s Mall outside of Washington, DC, and had to walk through a badly lit apartment complex each evening when I came home from work. I always ran.

Here in Negril, the first night I had to walk through that badly lit driveway, I ran. In my second step, I tripped on a huge stone and cut my hand open. I have not deigned to run down that path since.

Back to being alone. I sit here in my cottage, listening to schoolchildren play during the day and dogs bark at night. As I spend nearly all of my time alone, I don’t get to smile and laugh with friends or make jokes and play with my children. I don’t get to share a meal or an embrace with my husband. However, I know my solitude is temporary and have resolved to make the most of it.

Being alone, I can be completely relaxed all of the time. I can be calm and reflective. I can get up when I please. My mind is clear. I have only to worry about my needs. I am at peace.
Today is January 6, my fifth day alone. I have nine more days to myself. When these two weeks are over, I can go back to being part of the family and community I love and cherish. For now, I will focus on me.

Focusing on me means eating whatever and whenever I please. For now, I have decided to be vegetarian and to abstain from alcohol. Focusing on me means taking very long walks on the beach without worrying I have been gone too long. And focusing on me means spending my mornings writing without worrying about distractions.

My solitude feels good. I am not scared to be alone.