Heather Robinson DURING THE last month or so, Jamaicans have been faced in a real way with the concepts of refugee and exile status. The arrival of Haitian refugees in Portland and St. Thomas has created real excitement in the print and electronic media. The arrival of former Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide here has not only generated local and international media interest, but has also made some of us stop and wonder what it would be like to be exiled from our own country.
There is no doubt that Jamaica is one of the most beautiful countries on earth. We have some of the most exciting cultural attractions. Our food is undoubtedly among the best and nicest in the world. Our love for having a good time is well known. And we have an active democratic process, and we like to know what is happening in the rest of the world.
ANOTHER COUNTRY
The arrival of Mr. Aristide and his family has made me think about what it would be like to be escorted out of Jamaica, by whomever, and transported to another country, not of my own choosing. In fact, even if given the opportunity to choose my final destination frightens me. Is there somewhere else that I would rather live the rest of natural life? But could this really be a 'natural life' living anywhere else apart from Jamaica.
No. There is no such place on earth and let me explain why.
Our forefathers did not have a choice when they were forcibly shipped here hundreds of years ago. Those of us who are descendants, and moreso those who were born here, have a special place in our hearts for Jamaica.
This week the Jamaica Tourist Board has re-launched its 'Meet the People' programme. This programme has exposed thousands of foreign tourists to local hospitality at its best. This new thrust could not have come at a better time as it provides a good reminder that we are instinctively a hospitable and good-natured people.
In examining the possibility of being forced into exile, let us look at the implications for an individual in such a situation. There is no opportunity to prepare. There is no time to apply for a visa to enter the country of your choice. There is no time to dispose of your home and its contents. There is no time to seek out the best schools for your children. There is no time to find temporary or permanent accommodation for your family. There is no time to prepare your children for their imminent departure. And there is no time to tell your friends goodbye.
There is no time for you to tell your family and friends of your intention to leave. There is no time for the last visit to Hellshire for fish and festival. There is no time for a last visit to Emancipation Park, or to Dunn's River Falls. There is no time for the last taste of Boston jerk pork. There is no time to visit the grave of parents or loved ones. There is no time to make proper financial arrangements.
IN MR. ARISTIDE'S POSITION
Those who have criticised the decision of Prime Minister P.J. Patterson to accommodate Mr. Aristide while he re-unites with his family and prepares to find himself a permanent place of abode would do well if they placed themselves in Mr. Aristide's position when he was escorted from Haiti to the Central African Republic. Imagine being escorted on an aircraft without knowing your destination. Imagine arriving after a 20-hour flight in a country not of your choosing. Imagine being 20 hours from your five and seven-year-old girl children. Some, who can imagine, can see Mr. Aristide praying to God for the safekeeping of his children, the Haitian people and his own wife and self. Some others who are caring Jamaicans know that he must have also prayed for his transporters.
As Jamaica prepares to resume its Meet the People programme it would be good if we could imagine what it would be like to be summarily removed from Jamaica. What a torture.
Heather Robinson is a senior life underwriter and former Member of Parliament.
