Travel / Expat Life

How Do You Say Goodbye to a Place Like This?

So long, Jamaica

Life’s funny that way. You can direct and pull and push and force it any way you want. You’ll find your sweet spot, your comfort zone, the place where you feel good. You convince yourself that it’s always going to be like this. And then circumstances — some within your control, some not — contrive to change things on a dime.

It’s often when you expect it least. And it’s your reaction to it all that will tell the tale going forward.

Living in foreign countries, as I have for the past seven years, prepares you for the reality that you will not always stay in the same spot, and that you will eventually leave. You arrive wondering, “Is this the place where the movement finally ends?” and there will be a moment when you realise that while this new place suits you for now, it won’t be forever. This colours the way you conduct yourself and how you immerse yourself in a place where you know that though you are not camping out, you are also not going to put down roots and that you can imagine the day when you will move on.

This is one of the many pushes and pulls of what is commonly referred to as “expat life” these days. There are many things right with it and there are many things wrong with it. I’d argue though, that we get out of it far more than most of us put into it. Whether that’s right or wrong is not for me to say, at least not here.

I already said it here, anyway:

One of these things is that occasionally, circumstances conspire to make saying goodbye necessary. Nobody likes having to do that, but it’s a powerful thing if you let it be. Oftentimes, it’s coworkers and acquaintances whom you have come to know and enjoy spending time with on Friday after work, who are moving on. Sometimes these people have become good friends and you part knowing that it’s very likely that you’ll cross paths again further down the road. Sometimes, it’s a partner and you know you won’t.

Sometimes it’s the place itself that you are leaving behind. And with that introduction, it’s with a bit of a heavy heart that I contemplate the very real fact that I am about to fly away from Jamaica, the island nation in the Caribbean that I have called home for a relatively short time (compared to my other stops), since June 2021.

As I mentioned, I have been given a lot just by being in this place. Far more than I could ever hope to give of myself to it. I have five days left and find myself in absolutely glorious surroundings with good friends and all the shades of blue and green that could be imagined. The rum is flowing like, well…rum.

Those are three of the things I will remember best, but there are many others that I have written about over the past year. I have endeavoured to capture moments of true magic that I have experienced here, when the unplanned and the unrehearsed happened, far away from any cruise ship terminals, package hotel resorts and tour buses.

I link them all here, below, because they tell the story of my experience as a foreigner in this place for a brief time in my life. Unchanged, unedited and unvarnished from when I wrote them at the time.

I did live and work here once before, as a younger man in 1999–2000 and when I left I couldn’t have imagined that I’d ever return. So never say never. But for now, goodbye in gratitude.

This was the first article I wrote about living in Jamaica. It was less about how to make a move here happen, and more about what to expect once you arrived, if you were thinking about digitally nomading your way over.

The food, like the people, is full of spice and flavour and complexity. A particular place in the hills above Kingston (which has since shut down) called Chateau 7 was my first initiation about what happens when Jamaicans get together and eat.

Getting on the road to out-of-the-way places and being happy to get a bit lost on the way, while relying on the kindness of others to point you in the right direction. And feed you when you are there.

Rum. And rum tours. There are 4 working distilleries and rum factories on the island. Worthy Park is one of them in the centre of the island and is worth the drive out of Kingston, whether you like rum or not.

An attempt to immerse myself as a foreigner into the culture by participating in a farmer’s market and selling things that I had made myself. I took part in a few more after that and what I realised is that people are willing to fork over good money for things if they feel that there is an honest story behind it.

Jamaica is a truly beautiful place, in terms of physical and natural scenery. Two places, in particular, stand out: hiking in the Blue Mountains above Kingston and chilling at Treasure Beach on the South Coast.

Some of the best eating and drinking experiences happen way off the beaten path. Here are three: Pelican Bar on stilts in the water off the South Coast, Eggy’s Bar in Treasure Beach and Little Ochi in Alligator Pond.

After a while, you don’t want to drive miles and miles for hours to find a beach on the north coast and wonder if there aren’t any closer to Kingston. There are, you just have to figure out how to find them.

The importance of getting out of the city and into the country (which, to Jamaicans, is everything that is not Kingston).

The joy of street food in Kingston. You don’t need a waiter, you don’t need reservations, you don’t need a bill and you definitely don’t need a table. The food is good, but it’s the people that are around it who are the story.

Finally, I drank my fair share of rum while I was here. Mostly Jamaican, but also from all over the Caribbean. For me, rum is best enjoyed straight, with an ice cube or two. But there is nothing wrong with using it in a cocktail either. Here’s a recipe to finish this all off and watch the sun go down.

I really do hope that you like what you have just read. If you want unlimited access to thousands of writers, consider a subscription to Medium. It will set you back $5 a month and if you use this link, then I get a slice of that and I’ll put it towards the purchase of a bottle of Jamaican Rum on my way out the door.