Unknown's avatar

About Kate Chappell

"And all I offer here is the distilled poetry of my existence..." Claude McKay, Poet Laureate of Jamaica, 1890-1848 I have been a reporter since 1998, covering mainly business and politics. I have also capitalized on the many skills journalism requires to become an all-around communications specialist. In addition to being a professional curious person and communicator, I have a bad case of the travel bug and can't seem to stay put. Finally, I have put my skills to work as a volunteer in the community wherever I have lived. Now, follow me as I combine these compartments of my life in Kingston, Jamaica, where I am a writer, reporter, journalist and lecturer.

What would you do?


In yesterday’s Jamaica Gleaner, the Youthlink section began a series involving Youth Opportunities Unlimited. I worked on this over the summer with the Youthlink co-ordinator, as well as people involved with YOU. In essence, I wrote ‘case studies’ of ethical dilemmas faced by Jamaican youth. I then solicited answers from a guidance counsellor at one of Kingston’s rougher high schools; a government official from the Jamaica Social Investment Fund and several young people.

It was great to work with these individuals. They provided positive responses that reflect their point of view and the way they approach problems. We hope that these dilemmas encourage young people to take a second thought before acting when faced with a challenging situation. This is also excellent exposure for YOU. The Gleaner has a wide and devoted readership. Especially the Youthlink section, which reaches thousands of young people across Jamaica. Read the first feature here. Thanks Kareem!

MTV Spring Break in FL or Rick’s Cafe in JA?


After our half-marathon/10K success, the group of us parked ourselves on the beach. We read and swam and then managed to get ourselves ready to try out the legendary Rick’s Cafe. We had heard it is the best place to view the sunset on the island. Who knows if that is true, but it was spectacular, if a little strange. This restaurant caters to the tourist market., so for a minute, I was disoriented. Felt a bit like I had walked in to a taping of MTV’s Spring Break. Lots of people walking around in bathing suits with drinks, staring at one another. A few drunk white girls dancing awkwardly to a mediocre reggae cover band. The only differential was the cliff-jumping, off an elevation of about 50 feet?

That part was entertaining, especially the Jamaicans who perform tricks before jumping off. Like the extremely fit fellow who did a handstand on the cliff before gracefully flipping into the water. I love the collective intake of breath then the “woooooo!” that emanates from the crowd.

We got some celebratory drinks and watched the sunset. It was spectacular, of course. Lots of picture-taking ensued. Then we ate a great- but very early dinner- two mornings of getting up at 4am were taking their toll. We headed back to our guest house feeling happy if a little delirious. We must have been, because a Celine Dion sing-along followed. I am still a little delirious- was up until 300am last night attending the legendary street dance in RaeTown- post to follow.

Jammin at the Reggae (Half) Marathon


IMG_2667

Security

IMG_2792

Mikey Grocery

IMG_2630

Pasta party

IMG_2779

Coconut water

IMG_2648

Pre-run, we were not yet awake

100_4879

Mural on the wall

100_4885

Beach in Negril

100_4900

Crowd post race

100_4902

Finish area

100_4905

Entertainment along the race route

100_4904

Walking home

100_4903

Taking our time

100_4907

Post run

Free t-shirt100_4909

IMG_2781

Medals

IMG_2661

Torches as we started the race lit the way

IMG_2687

Entertainment along the way.

IMG_2702

Erin

IMG_2646

Pasta party

IMG_2733

Finish line

IMG_2746

Nearing finish line

IMG_2748

Medal for half marathon

IMG_2753

Post race

It was one of those experiences that is hard to put into words. But I am a writer, I gotta get over it and try to describe. Other than some necessary information, I will just paint some images and scenes for you. For most of the run, I was trying to capture so much of this in my head and preserve it in words. First, though, a bit about the race.

It took place in Negril. We are staying a cute little cottage just off the main strip. Devon, Mikey, Dolores, Tallman run the guest house and they all welcomed us as we arrived on Friday. We attended the pasta party night with hundreds of other runners from across the world. The whole event, which started in 1995, was extremely professional. We got our race kits with no hassle and enjoyed delicious pasta and assorted carbs.

The next morning, we were up at 4:00. After a quick snack and the requisite cup of coffee, we made our way to the starting line. Of course, reggae music was blasting. And promptly at 5:15am, the starting gun sounded to the sounds of Bob Marley’s “Jammin.”

The four of us running decided to go at our own paces. Here are some images: cars with soundsystems mounted on the roof, music blaring; rastas dancing and cheering along the side of the road; people in uniforms walking to work; moon and starlight giving way to a sunrise; a small strip of mauve clouds before the sun broke; the aroma of marijuana wafting in and out; runners of all colours, shapes and sizes; marathoners leading the way so lean and efficient; constant reggae music; the beach and ocean keeping us company the entire way; a cool breeze then blazing sun; coconuts and oranges; misting tents; cool sponges; cheering crowds and happy faces; medals; sweat; pain; endurance; Bob’s Mile (the last mile was called this and quotes from Bob Marley were on billboards by the side of the road); excited dogs running with us; birds in formation overhead; swaying palm trees; hugs from friends and pride.

Brianna and I finished the race together, Elisa was right ahead of us and Erin accomplished her first 10K. Wendy and Kelly cheered us on and got up with us at 4am. And Wendy took many of these amazing pictures. Overall, it was an incredible day and I am proud of all of us, as well as grateful for a healthy and strong body.

Half marathoning in Negril


On Saturday, at 5:15 a.m., a starting gun will sound and hundreds of people will being running a 10k, half or full marathon. The race, called the Reggae Marathon officially, takes place in Negril, on the northwest coast. I have yet to go to Negril, so I am excited both for the race and to visit this beautiful town.

I will be running the half-marathon distance (13.1 miles) with Brianna and a visiting friend named Kelly. Erin will be running the 10k and Wendy will be our support team. This is a regular distance for me, so the race is not a stretch physically. As a result, I am more focussed on the energy and adrenaline of race day. There is nothing like having people cheer you on and seeing fellow runners accomplish their goals. And at this race, there will be reggae music blasting along the route. So cool!

This race has become an international event, and indeed, I noticed a lot of tourists in Emancipation Park this week, probably preparing for Saturday. The first Reggae Marathon occurred in 1995. It grew out of a group of runners who go to a reservoir in Kingston called the Mona Dam. They call themselves the Jamdammers.

We leave for Negril early tomorrow morning on the bus. During the day, we will register ourselves then attend the traditional pasta party at night. Then, hopefully, we will get some rest.

Check out the web site for more info, and wish us luck!

Youth unemployment at record levels


Over the past eight months, I have had the privilege in being involved with a number of consultations and focus groups with youth from Kingston’s inner cities. We pick their brains time after time, asking them what their lives are like, what their hopes and dreams are and what they want to do with themselves. Their energy, candour and innovative personalities never fail to inspire me.

Most often, these youth are unemployed. They have participated in employment or mentoring programs through Youth Opportunities Unlimited, but given the way the local economy is, they are struggling to find work. This is not for lack of effort or skill. I have vetted many of their resumes: these are bright young people who want to work. In fact, this is the most common answer when we ask them what problems they face. They usually say unemployment.

Today, the Gleaner has a story that does not improve the picture for these young people. Unemployment among youth stands at three times the national average and it is worsening. It is currently at 32.2 per cent, compared to the overall unemployment rate of 12.8 per cent. That figure represents 162,900 jobs for youth, down from just over 165,000 during the previous year. Jamaica is a young population: the largest employed age group is 35-44, with the 25-34 age group representing the next largest group. In total, 1.095 people are employed in Jamaica, as of July 2012. Read below for the full story.

Jamaica’s youth unemployment, at 32.2 per cent, is close to three times the national average, and has worsened in the past year, according to new data from Statin.

Youth unemployment rose as high as 34.9 per cent in mid-2011.

The overall unemployment rate inched up to 12.8 per cent at July 2012, compared to 12.3 per cent a year ago, but was a marked improvement on the 14.3 per cent jobless rate estimated in the April 2012 survey.

The fall in the unemployment rate in July coincided with a dip in the size of the labour force since, suggesting that since April some persons had given up hope of finding work and left the market.

The labour force in July comprised 1.256 million, of which 161,300 were unemployed. The unemployed amounted to 179,900 in April within a labour force of 1.261 million; and 151,800 persons in July 2011 from a labour force of 1.235 million.

Planning Institute of Jamaica Director General Dr Gladstone Hutchinson, referencing the Statin data during a review of the quarterly economic performance, said Jamaica’s labour force increased by 20,600 in the past year.

Youth unemployment has consistently run at two or three times the national average.

The rate among 14-24-year-olds was 28.7 per cent in July 2011; 34.9 per cent in April 2012; and 32.2 per cent in the July quarter.

In July 2011, the youth group represented 165,100 jobs; a year later, that number was down to 162,900. The elderly, in the meantime, picked up additional work. Persons 65 and older held 56,300 jobs last year July; this year, the number has grown to 58,300.

The total number of persons employed as at July 2012 stood at 1.095 million, an increase of 1,100 relative to July 2011, Hutchinson said.

Eight of the 16 industry groups recorded increased employment levels year on year.

The largest, wholesale and retail, repair and motor vehicles and equipment, added up 13,800 jobs; manufacturing, 6,400; agriculture and its related sectors added 5,400 jobs; the occupation group ‘craft and related trades workers’ added 7,800; and ‘service workers and shop and market sales workers’, 7,300 jobs.

The majority of jobs are held by the 35-44 age grouping, followed by the 25-34 group.

Di Jameikan Nyuu Testiment


Language is an ever-controversial subject here. Specifically, the use of Patois versus the “Queen’s English.” Needless to say, this debate is heavily weighted by the past and the horrific legacy left by the slave trade. The current dialogue centres around the use of Patois in schools. I am not well-educated enough on this topic to provide any insight. But I do know of one anecdote that illustrates the issue: A young family (a husband, wife, five-year-old daughter and two-year-old daughter) has decided to home school the children. This is because they want the formative years of their children’s education to occur without exposure to Patois in the classroom. In other words, they want their children’s first language to be English.

This is because they fear the effects of having Patois in their daughters’ vocabulary. Both parents have graduate degrees and highly paying jobs. I think this story shows the tension between the acceptance of the country’s heritage and its desire to assimilate with the rest of the developed world. It also shows, I suggest, a degree of ambivalence, and even negativity, towards Patois.

So I find this story of translating the Bible into Patois fascinating. Religious leaders feel this effort will allow them to spread the message of the New Testament more easily. Many Jamaicans do not read or speak traditional English. But they do, of course, understand Patois. This dialect is not even an official language in Jamaica, although there are efforts to make it so. In addition, the University of the West Indies has produced a book formalizing Patois.

This issue is more than a matter of language, however. It is a matter of national identity. Of pride and heritage and the truth. And the debate continues to rage.

“Mi a Jamaican, Mi have a broad back!”


Today, the water is not shut off in my apartment. I am lucky. It is supposed to be off because my landlord has not paid $71,000 (about $800 Canadian) worth of fees to the building owner. As a tenant living in “delinquent” apartment, the guards are also not supposed to sell me laundry tokens, raise the gate for me when I want to enter or leave the premises, or deliver mail to my mailbox. The three guards have been instructed as such.

I have already had the water shut off once for a day or two as a result of this situation. I called the landlord on Saturday and she was angry with me for complaining about the situation. Sigh. At least I am moving in a few weeks. And at least the guards seem to be on my side. My bills are all paid up (I pay for water and power myself) and Cuso sends my landlord the rent directly so she is supposed to pay the building owners herself. Who knows what she is doing with these funds, but they are clearly not going to the right place.

All this to say is that I had an encounter yesterday with Miss Monica (a guard) that illuminates the Jamaican spirit. When a perceived injustice occurs, an instantaneous, passionate reaction ensues in the form of a fiery diatribe. I have some confidence to say this now as I’ve been here for awhile. Anyway, I was coming home from a run and stopped to chat with Miss Monica. On Sundays, she likes to read the obituary section (to see if anyone she knows has died, she says.) So I give her this section.

As I was parting, she said, “Kate, come here.” So I went back. “Do you still have water?” she asked. “Yes, I do,” I said, “But I know, it is supposed to be shut off.” Yes, Miss Monica said, adding that some other “delinquent” residents said they had their water shut off. Miss Monica then launched into a tirade, denouncing the unfair position she has been put in as the guard. It is not fair that she is now in the middle of a conflict between tenant and building management. Management has dictated that the guards do not accommodate us “delinquent” tenants, or they could face discipline. Of course, this is unfair to me as I am completely up-to-date on all my bills, it is my landlord who is in arrears, so why should I be punished, Miss Monica and I wondered.

And what if I am a confrontational person who gets angry when the guards do not raise the gate for me, Miss Monica asked. She has a point. Apparently, it is not uncommon for this to occur, having a “delinquent” landlord, and unfortunately, the building managers have put the guards (who make very little money) and the tenants in the middle. They will be disciplined if they do accommodate us, Miss Monica said, and that could mean losing their job.

I do need laundry tokens at the moment, so I was curious and decided to ask Miss Monica if she would mind selling them to me despite management’s instruction not to do so. Would you do it anyway, and risk getting in trouble, I asked? At that moment, Miss Monica’s posture changed. She raised herself to her full height and said, “Of course, man. Mi a Jamaican, mi have a broad back.” She went on to say that she would not let management tell her what to engage in such an unfair activity (I forget her exact words). I loved the immediacy of her response, her fire and her equation of her spirited action with her nationality.

Giving thanks, JA style


This evening we celebrated U.S. Thanksgiving a few days late. No turkey, but two large, delicious chickens, potatoes, green beans, corn pie, mashed potatoes, bread, stuffing and of course, pumpkin pie. Made from scratch. So tasty. Thanks Erin!

“Are your eyes real?”


I write about race and being a white girl here in Kingston a lot. I hope it is not tiresome. It remains a subject of endless thought for me. This is because almost everyday something racially charged happens. Whether it is someone calling out from the back of a truck “Whitey!” or another incident today (which I’m about to tell you about), having white skin in Jamaica provides enough subject matter for an anthropology doctoral student.

This afternoon, I was at work, sitting at my desk, when Nadine asked me for a picture. (Nadine is the office ‘helper’ at YOU. This is common practice, for an office to have a ‘helper’ and a ‘bearer’, which is basically a courier).

Nadine has asked me a couple of times now if my eyes are real or if they are contact lenses. I have told her that my blue eyes are indeed real. She can’t believe it, she says. A few weeks ago, she told me she needs a picture of my eyes to prove to her children that they are real. Apparently, she has told them about my light eyes and they did not believe her.

So, of course, I obliged. I’m not sure what to make of this. I’m never sure what to make of all these experiences in which my skin colour is the subject of fascination. Here is my white privilege speaking. I imagine that experiences like this are common for someone of a “minority” race. Having traveled a lot and having lived in India, I am not unaccustomed to being the only white person in a situation. However, the level of fascination and attention here still gets to me.

Young girls want to touch my hair. The elderly man at the fruit stand must grasp my hand in greeting every morning as I pass and we must dart away from the crazy guy down the street’s attempt to grab us when we walk by. I’ve been told by a few Jamaicans that some of these instances are people simply being very curious. They just want to touch you, to see what you are like.

For the most part, I am getting used to it, although some days it can be very tiring.

Happy U.S. Thanksgiving


Happy (U.S) Thanksgiving! Hopefully the travel mayhem of yesterday has died down and everyone is now settled somewhere, about to eat lots of food and watch football. Or shopping.

Here in JA, I am grateful that all my family and friends are happy, healthy and safe. In less than three weeks, I will be seeing most of them as I am headed north for the holidays. I will also be moving apartments prior to my departure due to some safety issues. This impending move has made me ponder what I will miss, both about my apartment and JA in general. List time.

(For the apartment) 1. The sunsets. Every night, I am privy to a glorious show over the harbour. If you look closely enough in the picture, you can also see the cranes used to move all the stuff shipped in and out of Kingston. I love those cranes, they have come to have a presence of their own in my mind. They are constant sentinels, observing all the activity of this harbour city.

2. The security guards. I will definitely miss these characters. Miss Monica’s singing about Jesus, Miss Henry directing me to buy her peanuts or mango, Mr. Fraser’s constant appraisal of my appearance.

(For JA). 1. I will miss the people. Both those I have come to know and care about and those I don’t know. In general, I will miss the energy, friendliness and passion of the people. It will be a shock, I think, to return to the reserved ways of Canadians. (I am also headed to the Bahamas and the U.S., both places are more exuberant, so there will be less of a culture shock).

2. The weather. Enough said. Actually, I will add that I am experiencing genuine fear about how my body will react to the cold, below zero temperatures. I can’t avoid it though, my running partner has already scheduled me in for a run outside.

3. The energy of the city. As I’ve said before, I love it here because it is never boring. I learn or experience something new everyday, which is a gift.

4. Buying fruit, fresh from the tree, anytime, anywhere.

5. The music constantly playing anytime, anywhere.

There are more things, I’m sure, that I will miss and that will only make their presence known once I am back on North American soil. I am also now compiling a list of things I will NOT miss. Stay tuned.