It took a while for me to get this down. To give you an idea of how long, I’ve been back from Jamaica for three weeks now. My procrastination game is strong these days. As I type this, dirt has currently taken up semi-permanent residence under my nails after an afternoon spent creating a container garden for my parents. They’re out of town this weekend and have yet to hint at wanting such a thing for their home (surprise! and you’re welcome). I also may have created a few different concoctions in the kitchen, insisted that the dog get fresh air despite his objections, and drafted up quite the to do list. I’m super productive at doing what I am not supposed to be doing.
You see, I’m about to delve into the issues of gender, sex, and equality and those can be quite the tricky trifecta - at least for me. I second-guess my experiences, I doubt my ability to articulate what I feel, and in a lot of ways it is just plain uncomfortable. There are moments that I would rather not think about and frankly I am so very much over it. No one wants to sound like a broken record. And while these situations eventually even become humorous– I am not above a good laugh over the backpacking dude – at the heart of it, it’s downright depressing. Despite all the gains we ladies have made, it can seem like the more things stay the same. I know, at this point you may be wondering :: I came here to read about Boston Beach in Jamaica why in the world is this chick going all feminist on me? :: Don’t worry, we’ll get there – (or maybe now is the time to worry?) - unfortunately, it’s relevant.
For most of my life, I attempted to reject my inner feminist self. I would say things like “I believe in equality but I’m not a feminist” or “that’s not relevant to my generation.” I actively avoided university topics like women’s studies and due to a quality high school history education that never passed WWII – it was easy to pretend that women’s rights was limited to women’s suffrage culminating with the passing of the nineteenth amendment in 1920. Can we pause for a moment to fully digest that? It’s been less than 100 years since women had the right to vote in the United States. When my grandmother was born, the women in her family had no influence over who was elected to govern this country. All of this is to say, I made the interesting choice to bring Gloria Steinem’s latest book with me to Jamaica. I have a tendency to travel with a hardcover despite my light-packing ways and I foolishly thought I would have so much spare time. Perhaps it was fate that led me to tuck My Life on the Road into my carry-on. It may have been terrible timing as well. Let’s just call this foreshadowing.
While my first weekend in Jamaica took me into the mountains, all that I wanted for my last few days was to spend some time at the beach. And not just any beach – I wanted to go to Portland. Because of its location on the northeast coast of Jamaica, it has some of the best of what the Caribbean has to offer – sandy beaches, the greenest of forests, hidden waterfalls (and the not so hidden variety as well), mountains that drop off as cliffs into the sea, and even some sweet surf. With only five days left to my Caribbean adventure, my friend and I rented a car and set our sights on Boston Beach.
After a short stint at Frenchman’s Cove, we settled into our hut right next to Boston Beach and began to explore the grounds. Within two minutes of walking along the coast of the property that faces Boston Beach, we suddenly had two new faces eager to chat us up. Now mama did not raise no fool but what followed was a series of interesting life choices. I may have decided to jump from a 20-30 foot ledge into the ocean below (I waited to see one of them do it first and YOLO 4 lyfe). I may have left my personal belongings including phone, what measly money I had left, rental car key, passport, etc. at our accommodation’s beach to swim on over to Boston Beach proper (I was fairly certain there was a security person present). I may have allowed one of them to provide what he described as bush medicine to my friend’s bloodied ankle (it was mere flesh wound… and I figured it couldn’t hurt? sorry, friend).
Even though we were pretty sure of the intentions of these dudes from the get go, we perhaps naively thought that hey, at least they make for interesting conversation, seem like nice people, and if we continue to emphasize the fact that we’re not interested in them other than strictly friends it could all work out. Apparently they had more of the Kenny Rogers definition of friends in mind. You live and learn. In hindsight, had I realized what responding in any sort of positive way was about to lead to, I never would have spoken with them. And that is the first lesson : no one wants to be just friends, at least not at the beach. We went our separate ways with the vague comment of we don’t know what we’re doing tonight – second lesson : be clear about your intentions, it may or may not be helpful in discouraging unwanted advances. I could regale you in the play-by-play of the rest of the weekend but it pretty much went went something like this : go to the beach, see the same dudes at beach, said dudes making some inappropriate comments, reiterating to dudes that neither one of us is interested or pleased with the advances, dudes acting hurt and utterly confused for all of 5 minutes, and repeat.
On the one hand I understand their game – I am sure they are fairly successful most of the time. But the dynamics of foreign ladies showing up for a good time with some local men (and the reverse dynamic as well) aside, it is downright frustrating having to tell someone no all the freaking time when all you want is some vacation time at the beach. Comments and actions directed my way were not limited to stating young I look, complementing my ‘nice’ and ‘tight’ skin, admiring my cleanliness, jumping on the back of my surf board when a wave comes and whispering in my ear that my skin is so soft, poking my calf and letting me know he was going to make my muscles work, telling me that he never shares his feelings like this, that I am special and beautiful and so he just can’t help himself (sure way to creep out a lady – tell them you can’t physically control yourself), and that he has never met someone like me and never will again. At one point, I looked him squarely in the face and asked him how many foreign women he has had sexual relations with after meeting them at Boston Beach. He of course denied ever having any sort of previous relationships but then simultaneously told me that he almost never has sex while also taking the opportunity to let me know how good he is in bed. Despite removing ourselves from the public beach and hiding out back at the huts, the gentlemen callers showed up looking for us. I responded the way any mature adult would and grabbed my friend as I ran out a backdoor that literally led into the woods… pretty much looking just like this. A conversation with the guesthouse manager (who took no time in telling us casually that oh the ladies usually have them stay over) and our persistent callers were no longer able to harass us
I write all of this not as an indictment of all Jamaican men nor to dissuade anyone from Boston Beach. Despite the harassment and unwanted advances, I absolutely loved Portland and I am already plotting my next trip there. I write this because enough is enough. I wish I could say that I was surprised but what we encountered - and maybe I was to the extent that our explicit NO was not respected - but ultimately it’s what I have come to expect when I am out and about on my own or with only other ladies. And that is not only disheartening but incredibly infuriating as well. My gender should not dictate where, when, and how I travel. I’ve written before about how whenever I share these stories the initial response is usually something along the lines of you shouldn’t be traveling alone/without a man/in “those” areas. And I get their good intentions, I truly do but when do we stop telling women to modify their behaviors and hold men accountable for their actions? When do we collectively say as a global community that women are not objects?
I may have spent the beginning of my life trying to distance myself from the F-word and eventually becoming a so-called reluctant feminist. But get ready folks. I’m full-fledged now. There are about to be a whole lot of Gloria Steinem quotes up in these parts.
notes
go -- i mean what i said – go to boston beach and explore the other areas in portland. it’s absolutely beautiful and not on the tourist circuit so you don’t have the crowds and vendors that you have on the other side of the island. also, apparently the best jerk pork in the country is right there, if that’s your kind of thing.
see -- we almost didn’t visit reach falls while we were in portland and that would have been a huge mistake. for maybe a 10 usd entrance fee you get a guided tour of the falls which includes literally hiking up, through, and under them. i highly recommend bringing water shoes and some quick drying clothing so you don’t end up like me and hike in a bikini and trail runners.
do -- surf! it depends on the season and conditions but if you have the opportunity, definitely partake in some surfing at boston beach. our first day was barely a 1-2 ft swell but the following day was at times 4-5 ft. there are plenty of boards to rent and locals willing to teach albeit for a fee. depending on your haggling skills, lessons can cost anywhere from 1500 jmd to whatever you will agree to pay.
stay -- we ended up staying at great huts for maybe 80 usd a night which included a delicious and filling breakfast. the huts are a bit rustic but clean and comfortable. i absolutely loved it but don’t go expecting a five star hotel. also, don’t be misled by the post - the staff at great huts were wonderful and made sure we felt safe during our stay. (i.e., my belongings were kept safe when i carelessly abandoned them to swim over to boston beach and the manager took our concerns seriously).
eat -- the best meal i had in portland was at the errol flynn marina in port antonio. be prepared to wait but the fish is ridiculously good and well worth it. also, be prepared to pay as a meal + drink will probably cost you about 20-25 usd.
skip -- if you are short on time, you may want to considering skipping out on frenchman’s cove and blue lagoon. sure they’re pretty but in my humble opinion not worth the fees, especially when you have such beautiful beaches and falls nearby. (you can drive up to the blue lagoon for free but if you want to actually see it, a boat ride is probably in order).
